I used to believe,

Man was destined for a fate,

Of both greatness and tranquility.

Far beyond simply existing.

Now made miserable by our own hand.

 

Yet the will of a single specimen;

Not to exist as an animal,

Of flesh and bone.

But a man,

In the complex of a god,

Yet restraint of a mortal.

 

The instinct and build of an animal,

On the other hand…

Quite a scene I must say.

Crude yet majestic.

Brutal yet beautiful.

As of the wolf and the hare.

The shark and the seal.

That of man towards the animal.

 

The brilliant concept,

Of human existence;

Pitiful nonetheless.

Flowering combustion of human spirit.

Feeding a wild flame.

Inciting release of dormant bestiality.

Natural awakening,

To wild unpredictable enlightenment.

Liberation of all genetic restraint.

 

Once and again have I proven,

The essence of that specimen,

Crawls under the common make of a man.

Yet man is difficult to correct,

And more wary towards doctrines of greed, power, politics…

 

In this reference of self-redemption,

I would very much rather live by a free creed,

Such as that of an wild animal.

Earning day to day;

The right to live.

As both hunter and prey.