the untamed beast

Under the wreath of rose bush, the thorns of the anchient time,
Beneath the dense, tense, enviroment
Lies a vicious beast.
A beast which none can tame.
There beneath the undergrowth a den of daemon despair decay and death:
Parcelled in a soil cove.
Tucked away from light of day -
No ivy grows no life shows

Except

The deep mysterious grumble
The grumble of hunger and
The eyes of a badger
The claws of an eagle with scaled slimy skin dripping in a poison sweat.

The beast remained untamed until the end of days, never growing thriving living well or venturing. This untamed best was a reminder to us all:

With our minds Trapped in a cave we'll never ourselves save.