I’m riding this life.
I’m riding this thing like a dragon.
See, the dragon is just doing what dragons do.
And me?
I’m just hanging on for the ride.
It is like riding a dragon.
As if each life has a life all its own.
We meet the beast somewhere…early on.
Before time begins.
And we ride it for our life.
Some of yours are dragons like mine.
And some of yours seem doves to me.
But no.
We each ride a dragon.
Or fight it.
Or both.
Early on I know this much:
I must break it.
I must.
Or die.
Or kill us both in trying.
Better dead now from living somehow,
than dead in a life of dying.
It shrieks and roils and bucks.
And flies like fucking HATE on fire.
To break me.
It must.
Or die.
Or kill us both in trying.
Better dead now from living somehow,
than dead in a life of dying.
It is Ten-Thousand Hells of Violent Fuck
-this BEASTFIGHT lode.
Idle stands the Devil by.
Transfixed.
Somehow beaten.
But then one day in sadist taunt,
I of a sudden let it go.
To watch it try to kill me, I suppose.
I do not now sure know.
He flies like the roil of the hurriflame wind – hard, hot, mad, and quick – like the flick of the tip of a wick with a whip – Sharp. Violent. Perfect.
It’s then, I find myself in awe of him.
My spurs and crop and beating-chains,
and all the shatter-smashed remains
of the environs where we’ve fought –
when he would try to scrape me off,
all hurt him. Bad.
Tough Motherfucker, I’ll say that.
That’s what makes him reckless and brave,
the beast knows he can take a beating.
His greatest power is in his bleeding.
Scorn bears his iron screams:
“FUCK FEAR.”
“It’s but the fantasy of pain,” I sing.
“FUCK PAIN.” He shrieks again.
“For when it’s gone, I will remain.” - I sing along.
I push him on. Lift him up.
And he flies even faster.
And turns ever harder still.
Like wild grace. Terrifying. Mesmerizing.
So I urge him on. With all that I am.
Then the fear: If all of me is spent to lift him up, then who is there for me?
And the answer surges beneath me. In Power.
And I learned that when we strive in unison.
To lift the other up, it becomes a dance.
A beautiful, wild dance.
Like sex.
Striving together as one for the sake of the other.
Becoming one.
And then I knew what love is.
And then I loved myself.
Because, then I understood it: I am the dragon.
See "the Battle of the Beast" - this is what that's about:
Comentarios