The Hounds of Grief

 

I keep the hounds of grief chained and hidden
And I try to visit them but seldom
And I try to feed them even less
And I dread to look upon them,
Fearsome beasts that
they are.

I feed them with all that I am
With my fears and doubts and hopes and dreams
With my memories, with my strength and courage.
But it is never enough; they whine for more to eat,
Ravenous as they are.

When they smell me they howl,
When they hear me they bark,
When they see me their jaws are forests of teeth and seas of drool.
Were they to escape their restraints they would rip my flesh, crack my bones and lap up my blood,
Vicious as they are.

I should put them down.
But I cannot.
They are my pets.
I bred them and raised them and trained them and hold them all dear,
Disloyal as they are.

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