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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1741276
A man discovers that he has become a terrible monster
He awoke a beast.

He peered upon, in the mirror, brows creased.

“Couldn’t be me,” he thought, “The mirror, it’s wrong!”

But his illusions finally ceased, for they had endured too long.

He flung a gnarly claw at the reflection,

But in casting for blame, he hooked only deception,

For his weapon-like digit, pointedly wielded,

Aimed towards himself, and unto truth, he yielded.

He blinks at the face of a hairless ass,

A horrid countenance, but his own, alas.

His bulbous black-brown eyes shakily scan,

His abhorrent figure, once long ago, a man.

Ribbed black horns sprout from his skull,

Guarding the curious ears of a hare.

His hope wanes to a negligible null,

As he grasps the reality of this nightmare.

A ridge of wiry brown hair climbs down his long, thick nape,

Which reaching his shoulders, explodes into a dense coat of coarse fur.

He howls at the sight of his abominable shape,

“Oh why, or how, could this torment occur!?”

From his breast to his heels, he remained humanoid,

Yet he bore glistening black claws from his fingers and toes.

Weeping now, his anguish grows,

And he mourns the death of himself, destroyed.

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