Conscience, that constant voice,
cease for a moment thine eternal noise.
I beg thee reconsider this path
of constant vigilance o’er acts of mine.
This is me! I do declare. I proclaim
from tallest tower to deepest mire.
Not proud, just broken, I am
but an honest monster, wearing
a man’s skin akin
to a lamb coated wolf.
I do not hide my claws
I do not wear the veneer
of respectable sophistry.
And yet you prattle to me
about rights, wrongs,
about valour sung in song,
and yet, now, I ask thee be still.
Listen.
In these crypts of righteousness,
where slumber the heroes of the past,
what do you hear, else from the constant
crunch of their bones beneath my teeth.
What defence does lend to them, their valour?
None, for in the dark, where hunger lingers,
listen. Only silence and I reign supreme.