read more
											Joe Puccio
He desired nothing more 
Than our malcontent. He wanted to 
Displease us as God
Did so to him. Thus,
His means for satisfaction 
Ran through our veins. 

The beast tested our patience,
He intended for our arms to fall.
He gnawed at our will as he did to our
Brother’s bones. What was only impervious 
To his nefarious practice was Him.
The carrier of our fear, 
Our freedom, Our honor. 
It was He who would end this
Terror. It was I who would fight
With Him. While the others 
Would be overcome by the treacherous 
Trick the Beast played, I would remain
Vigilant. I disposed of sleep’s insidious 

Beowulf stood. Not with his feet, 
But with his eyes. The irony of 
Such power with no Iron to house it. 
He lay there, bare to viewing but
Not to fear. My existence was then felt by 
His gaze. I remained still, as not to shake
This great honor. I felt a profound pride, 
Soon ended by despair. My person was 
Joined by other eyes. As if I were
The site of some happening. In an instant,
All was understood. The first pair to
Fall on me were not Those of the great Warrior, 
But of whom He sought to destroy. I 
Was taken in my entirety. Only in
Doom did I discover that my nobility was 
Affected. While the jaws of death enveloped
My being, I uncovered the insolence 
Of Beowulf’s ploy. It was finally seen, 
That I, amongst most men, 
Am only a means to an end.