The beast was always there,
Even before that very first night,
A whispering voice,
That seemed to suck away light.
We always knew,
For it was frequently mentioned,
It's the snake among the vines,
Our mind's own invention.
But the latter was not accepted,
Perceived as just Simon's view,
A small flicker of a fire,
That died when the conch next blew.
If only we had listened,
Only accepted what was said,
All our actions would have been better,
Those few boys, not dead.
But the evil inside us,
Man's one true beast,
Tamed by society,
And now newly released,
Would not let us listen,
Let us accept what we are,
A true beast in the mind,
A real menace, heart's scar.
So evil prevailed,
More bad now than good,
More concerned of what was,
Than what will or what should.
And thusly it continued,
And lived on, and bred,
Torching society,
Leaving order for dead,
Until conquered by age,
Who found us and saved.
But evil is present,
Naturally crooked, yet often well paved.