Becoming a Boar

I woke in the mud, the weight of shame, A shadow of who I was, not the same. The beast inside whispers soft and low, “Let go of the chains, let the wildness grow.” Mirror of flesh, twisted and torn, Caught in the tide, where two worlds are born. In the echoes of the mire, I hear my name, A call to the wild, to the beast, to the flame. Flesh and instinct wage their fight, Will I rise, or fade into the night? The mountaineer’s hands, shaping my fall, A puppet to hunger, a slave to his call. Yet deep in my heart, a fire remains, Burning through darkness, through pleasure, through pain. Mirror of flesh, twisted and torn, Caught in the tide, where two worlds are born. In the echoes of the mire, I hear my name, A call to the wild, to the beast, to the flame. Flesh and instinct wage their fight, Will I rise, or fade into the night? No redemption, no escape, Bound by chains of primal fate. But as the storm rages, I see the sky, A fleeting glimpse of what’s still mine. In the echoes of the mire, I scream my name, Fighting the wild, defying the flame. Flesh and instinct blur the line, Will I reclaim, or lose what’s mine? The mire calls, the echoes grow, To beast or human, I’ll never know. But in the darkness, one thing is clear, I’ll fight the wild, I’ll face the fear.