Does the monster emerge from the womb,
or does the monster take shape in the
crucible
Of
upbringing,
each option steeped in the searing
ache
of
existence?
Does it even have an existence?
Is the monstrous essence inherent, an indelible echo,
or does it emerge through upbringing,
a harrowing process that either
kills
or
defines?
What shapes a monster,
if not the very core of its being?
Who sculpted it into the
semblance of evil,
Or did he chisel
himself
Into
It
The words echo in the silence,
a painful admission lingering in the air.
"Maybe... maybe they were always like this. Monsters."
The weight of the
revelation settles,
a bitter truth
staining the soul
with the undeniable realization
of a monstrous existence.
What are the words again?
Yeah
maybe
just
maybe.
