Part 1

With pointed snout and matted fur,
Imposing frame that barely stirs,
 
It stands, so proud,
And eyes the outcast’s tattered rags.
And then out loud
With smooth and cultured voice it brags,
 
“Are you surprised to hear me speak?
I am no simple rabid brute.
I have no need to skulk or sneak
Among the poor and destitute.
 
“I was once a man like you,
Despised for what I could not be;
Yet through that fiery avenue
I walked until my soul was free.
 
“Then fate avenged my sorrows all
And granted me this noble gift,
To ensure the mighty fall
And embody justice swift.”
 
“Justice? You?
Who murders fathers as they slept?
All those you slew
Left daughters, sons and wives who wept.”
 
“You do not know how blind you are;
I laid no hand upon those men,
Merely watching from afar
As they met their well-earned end.
 
“I gave each one great tooth and claw
Then showed him his own heart;
When all the evil there he saw
Each tore himself apart.
 
“And now in turn your soul I bless,
Feel your surging righteous might!
Do not give vile foulness rest,
Dig it out and end your blight!”
 
Holy rage consumes his mind
At filth that must now be removed;
To all else he is almost blind
His razor claws the perfect tool.
 
He somehow holds himself at bay
And stumbles down the tortured mound,
‘Til finally at break of day
He wakes upon quite foreign ground.