A. Long — Chimera Self

My face was beat by wind and sleet,
Forest floor set traps to trip my feet.
My cloak wrapped tight about my neck,
In rain, I embarked on forest trek.
The creature wailed up in the tree,
Fought to keep his life from me.

My creation howled, woed, moaned,
Invoking God, each groan intoned.
My chimera-horror beckoned me,
Trailing blind, no light to see.
The silhouettes of branches blown
against the moon not fully shown.

The autumn air chilled to the bone,
marching onward, afraid, alone.
Behind each tree, I sought to find,
In the darkness, staggered, blind.
His being why I questioned deep,
How his soul I wished to keep.

The laboratory was the scene
My experiment, a plan, obscene.
To clone myself, spilt DNA,
I set to work that fateful day.
To see myself in full, intact,
In secret working, science fact.

Inserted egg, grown, created womb,
I see today is now my tomb.
Like Frankenstein I sealed my fate,
Madness fraught, my ego’s state.
A choice to form my cursed clone,
For my eyes, for mine alone.

He grew in silence, aging well,
I watched in glorious giddy swell.
Until full grown, I’d hardly known,
Creator’s glory, power shown.
Hubris seems to puff us all,
Pride that comes before a fall.

Face to face his maker saw,
He grabbed at me, his hand, a claw.
Unprepared for such a lunge at me,
From the lab he broke way, set free.
Out the door, like lightening flash,
Howling, moaning, as if under lash.

My rifle drawn I saw him high
His being now, my name denies.
I saw him up there in the tree,
I saw me looking back at me.
Enraged and grieved again he lunged,
I took the shot, his life, expunged.

My hands with mud and dirt now covered.
On his grave I stood, I hovered.
Laws of God and Science broken,
My horror dead, in gloom unspoken.
The Monster buried in his grave,
Like Shelleys’ creature, none to save.

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