Grisly beast

I have found myself forming into the mold
You maybe surprised to see the grisly beast
struggling to escape from inside me
it has not been calmed nor passified

the years die like soldiers inside it's aim
each shot felling another
the whistling bullets freer than I will ever be
Riding through months till they hit december

Days and hours are blood in this mixture
between the divine and the physical realm
In the old vain stale and slow running
will the grisly beast keep it fresh in me

I will not ask these questions
But let the beast on the leash
Just tow it's master into a new decade
where he can dress and meet and speak

and hide under the flesh infront of the waiters
the millions of waiters
at the afterlife bus stop
one where they decided paradise is near after

that their little experiment has granted them bliss
If there was an angel to laugh itself to death
This described would be the punchline

Let the grisly beast growl and moan
Until age and silence dominate us
pushing us closer to a hole in the ground
where finally one may rot in peace