Everyone has a dream . . .
The way I see it
there is only one thing between us and our dreams.
That is the beast within.
And everyone has a beast within them
Everyone has that inner monologue
That inner demon
That’s the beast I was telling you about
My beast speaks too
He whispers . .
But I know it’s him,
which is why he changes his dialect.
I swear this is to trick me,
My beast changes the way he speaks,
always disguising himself,
always trying to make me guess myself,
and always looking to maintain my attention
so I won’t look anyplace else.
And sometimes . . .
Sometimes I listen to the crazy laugh of my inner animal.
Every wonder why the devil never dresses himself in anything fancy?
It’s so you never see him coming . . .