The silence was
Interrupted by the clearing of his throat and heavy footsteps
As well as the incessant, irregular coughing that followed.

He sat down and spoke,
but these words were too familiar, they had been said many times before;
they held no meaning.

Dressed entirely in black,
skin colored red,
The Beast stared without mercy through the glass in front of his eyes.

Hesitating, I gave a feeble attempt to raise my hand and
As I drew his attention,
I saw the furry creation upon his lip anticipate the question I prepared to ask.

I thought of the twelve years,             
Twelve in which He had made us suffer
the pain: inescapable, insurmountable
trapped in our self-inflicted doom.

Hopeless, I shed a tear, and asked him:
“Have you no heart?”
And he looked at me
His beady eyes and accompanying mustache stared into my soul,

He reached over to the prime rib beside him,
Taking a bite to indulge in his immortality,
He licked his lips as to taunt
And he spoke:
“"NO! I have no heart, I feel no love, nor fear, nor joy, no sorrow. I am hollow and I will live forever."

And the streets of Philadelphia sang in sadness,
for they mourned the pain they
had suffered for twelve long years and knew it would not soon
end.