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Its rage is rattling your cage. You have taunted the beast so that it now lashes out, and so confirming your hypothesis of its primitive mind. The beast is on exhibit on the stage. You prodded it with the electrode sticks. You subjected it to verbal and physical abuse. All this you base on the premise that it had a higher pain threshold. You gave it electrotherapy, saying that you wanted to see the source of its rage. Your scientists deem the breast as a subhuman species. All this you did under the auspice of science. Still, the voices remained silent.
It, you saw as a threat to the purity of the white virgin bride, the anthesis of the beast — the bride you valued so much that you treated her as second best. But, still, the beast resides inside and should not be let out. And, so you caged it, lest it unleashed the rage: the irrational, the emotive, the primeval. Emotions are something that should be feared and therefore repressed. To let it out would show the world your true self. Black is the colour of your sins. It you say should perpetually reside in the dark. Should you let the primitive loose — your free will you will lose. It is the recluse hiding in the deepest recesses of your mind.
You only see beauty in the light. The light you see as residing in white. Your conjectures you deem are always right.
