Vallée de la bête

I stand here alone and wonder why
I see lilies, bluebells and a butterfly
This barren land has changed now
But not the beast nor his nasty howl.

All night he cries, unbearable and shrill
His grief echoing throughout the hill
Colours and spring affect him not
Living with the shadows, death and rot.

Sun shone high and yet I see
His furry outline by the oak tree
The wind came along with his woeful moan
Wild agony that chilled the bone.

To kill the beast would prove no change
Beauty rested in suppressed rage
The valley bloomed when he was there
This living land, that was once bare.
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-The Violet Woman
Fragments #5
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