The great beautiful beast in the rink
This is the man you see whose strength is boundless
Is it he for whom, you notice, effortless power lifts desire
Others we wish to hold for their struggle and will
But we know, or so we think, they are preoccupied by not much else
And while the beast's eye's are raging and furious, or empty and silent
We don't know why.
What's on his mind?
(Those who can do best betray us everyday)
How beautiful are they
so much more than I who finds every way to make the business of others
a business of mine. hopping about never seeing how great a beast I may be
at my own game.
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