Whose Side?

The long-winded growling of the great beasts’ stomach,
Creating an immense roar that indeed,
Only the largest and most powerful cat-lord could barely overcome.
And a concise fall,
A short break after each of the monotonous grumbles
Emitting from the vast rising hill,
One that had not yet been conquered
For fear of awaking the colossal being
That lurked deep within the beast’s core
Indeed, if such a spirited spectre were to
Break out in a drunken rage for not yet sober does this being become,
Then surely all, young and aged, would flee
In spite of the previously benevolent character that
Had before nursed young and assisted the elderly.
No soul would dare think the beast had ever loved
For fear of having the wrath of an upset and blinded soul
Turn upon their merrymakings and alarm the skills
That had allowed the happiness to occur.
But come the succeeding morn, the inner child and beauty
Would awake once more, and put the peoples’ restless hearts and souls to peace.
However, the innocent natures of soberness can no longer reign
As the champagne and wine explodes, and as one are poured incessantly
Into the cavern of my father’s gaping mouth.