I think you’ve seen it before.
I painted it, named it
Born in Hell, Baptized in flames,
It travels on hooves in a parallel plane.
It fights and it feasts, by night and by day,
With shiny, iron teeth, and a crushed leather face.
To say the ugliness inside deserved itself to be known,
From the block and my carving, I knew when it started to grow,
It would be
Half-assed, and crude… dissapointment, at the distance we hold.
If I could get closer to the spirit of inspiration,
If I could just grab hold…
I would paint it, I’d name it, it would be called