“Animalistic Humanity” – Poetry

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ANIMALISTIC HUMANITY
Poetry excerpt from Demonic Lulladies.

© Sitarra “LullaDIEs” Sefton

The woman cries for help,
She begs for mercy with a yelp.

The tears flow from swollen eyes,
As she swallows her husbands lies.

The beating she will endure,
Her survival is unsure.

Long ago she became,
This creature made so tame.

A weak and timid animal,
Her will to live is minimal.

Life lessons tell her to stay,
And let him have his way.

The man yells louder than her,
His voice sounding sinister.

Anger and lust leaks from his lips,
As he roughly caresses her bruised hips.

A creature with black fur,
And a dangerously drunken slur.

He feeds her, and gives her a home,
Making the wife property, his to own.

A wild and crazed animal,
His sins against her cardinal.

It’s instinct to fuck and beat her,
A feral being; a woman silencer.

The husband’s desires are animalistic,
The wife ignores her basic instinct.

The circle of abuse goes round and round,
With no ending anywhere to be found.

Just like their matching wedding rings,
No end, and a debated beginning.

The husband comes home late again,
With whiskey breath and lipstick on his chin.

He demands his dutiful wife to lie down,
And to cast her clothes to the ground.

His animalistic needs need fulfilling,
The way she fights he finds thrilling.

He chases her, like a dog does a rabbit,
More than instinct now; a thrilling habit.

But the timid woman has had enough,
She doesn’t believe, but she is tough.

This tame animal remembers being feral,
The wife desires to be free of her kennel.

And so she grabs a knife not far away,
Like claws, she slashes at her prey.

It’s his turn to beg for mercy now,
But to his pleas the wife only frowns.

She killed the man, that weaker being,
And from the law she now is fleeing.

Don’t classify either act as criminal, 
Each and every one of us is an animal.

Some are feral, more are tame,
Most become part of the mundane.

Ignoring instincts in bedded deep,
Following the flock of useless sheep.

Becoming prey, food for predators,
But we’re all born to be carnivores.

To feed off those weaker than ourselves,
To be like lions hunting gazelles.

The husband felt it, he knew the truth,
But he forgot the rule; what a douch.

Mother Nature told all her children,
Each deer like victim and wolfish villain.

Don’t play with your food, just eat it,
Don’t let it become stronger or out wit.

Because a fly will not defeat the spider,
But to become a wasp, the fly only needs a stinger.

The wife knows it, she feels the truth,
A weaker creature she will now seduce.

Like a sexy kitty; a blood crazed cat,
She’ll stalk and kill those filthy rats.

Like a hawk’s arial attack on the fish,
The taste of victory flavors her dish.

As sharks hunt seals without remorse,
She’ll feed on you, her meals main course.

Instinct tells her she needs to hunt to survive,
OH, Come now, don’t look so surprised.

Each of us is nothing more than an animal,
Proven with science; biomedical.

Creatures created to feed off flesh,
Leaving for vultures whatever’s left.

She hears the whispers of the animal inside,
And let’s it roar; she no longer hides.

Wolves shouldn’t hide in sheep’s wool,
They’re too powerful to play the fool.

The woman, once a fly, is now a wasp,
For evolution, survival is the cost.

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