Beast Poem by Scylla Grand

You tuck away the compromised -
that memory you once had prized,
when at a touch, mirth's brilliant gloss
is blemished by a sour loss.
But banished thoughts despite your will
are breathing and surviving still.

The moment stalks your mind unbowed;
its roar contaminates the crowd.
Regarding it with care and fright,
you tell yourself, "Don't let it bite."
You tread toward the center stage
and lure the beast into a cage.

Before it fades, remember this:
When winter storms extinguished bliss,
the beast had kindled warmth in you.
And this forever will be true.
Your moment thwarts the parasite
called ice with its surpassing might.

Survival is a fickle trail
of endless storms and sudden hail.
Release the creature locked inside -
that tainted soul you once denied.
And when you free the beast, behold!
It follows you into the cold.