Dragonbeast

I thought I slew the beast an age ago
yet here it rises up within this shell,
this outer husk that people see as me.
Its coarse green scales now rub and irritate
while in my gut the tail unwinds and twists.
My throat is tight around its neck, the while
its angry eyes through mine spit emerald fire
and in my mouth its tongue speaks words of hate.
He only had to glance at her and smile
to wake the beast, ignite that slow uncoil
that burned and warned me it was still alive.

The beast that orders me, do this! say that!
is still the master, I am still the slave…
and so I press this dagger to my heart
the beast must die – and if it must be so,
then so must I.