Evil is Subjective

Man's head mounts the wall

Man's ribs usher spectators

“What is that, father”

“The monster, son.”

The boy's heads were two

The father's eyes were four

Their faces gnarled,

Their bodies far more.

“But they do not -look- scary, Father”

The congregation regarded him

“Ah, but they were sinning,

lusting, feuding, greedy seeds”

The boy's teeth elongated

The father's jutted more

Their eyes pure black

Their souls were far more

“But they do not look evil, Father”

A disembodied head's glazed eyes

Lethargically glared his way

“Only on the outside, my son.”