The Monster

This is a poem about Frankensteins Monster, but the Monster is multi-culturalism, a false creation which is formed from death.






The monster is now slowly dying, falling apart,
At the seams, fracturing along fault lines,
Its flesh held together by stitches and knots,
Cannot hold much longer, as wounded it staggers,
Into the inevitability of corruption and death.


Animated only by selfish desires, a slave,
Clumsy and brutal, it staggers and slurs,
Upon severed stumps transplanted unnaturally,
To form a simulacrum of life, a mockery,
The golem of a false god, worshipped by fools.


Its eyes are as empty as the grave, soulless,
It suckles only the criminal and corrupt,
A prison of perverted desires, a death camp,
Obedient only to the monsters that gave it life,
It awaits the fall, the death, and true rebirth.