Disclaimer: I actually quite like octopi. Will work on this further, at a later date.
Why fear the wolf?
Though he may wear the lamb’s clothes
He cannot take his shape,
Nor can he wear the starry sky
Like any common cape.
He feasts and fasts
And fasts and feasts
And always follows form
No need with wolves, my dear,
To fear unusual harm —
But the wise man fears the octopus,
Orphan of aliens, crawling wanderer,
Colorful carnivore, stealer of shapes.
Keen-eyed and clever, the octopus
Will answer any riddle you pose her,
Unriddle the riddler. The abyss looks in,
The octopus through.
And what riddle is she, this octopus.
A bird beaked and without wing —
Cast out curiosity,
Thief of sky’s colors?
Not bird then, but angel,
Scribe of the fallen. Was Veriel your name,
You whose ink once told
The truths of heaven?
Hungry, now, the octopus.
She wears the worlds she cannot return to,
Writes only the words
Of forgotten languages.
Covered in teeth
Her cursed and cloying fingers
Reek of hunger. She cannot help
But leave red marks.
A demon by definition,
Her nature is predicated
On the predatory act.
Paralyzed and vivified,
Her audience stands rapt
About to view her nature unchanging
(A demon in deed)
Whose soul’s her own trap.
