Frankenstein, mon amour

 
 
I was born from death.
I was created from the remnants of corpses,
resuscitated by the contraption of a demented dreamer,
who conjectured that reanimation was possible and
necessary; that immortality should not be the selfish  
realm of God.
 
I was designed without regard to aesthetics, but rather  
stitched together as a hideous parody of that which is  
human, an ugly facsimile. yet it was the mighty magical  
spark from God’s own domain that animated me; great
streaming bolts of His fire that gave me life. therefore,
since I was made by heaven, I must be beautiful.
 
yet mankind, in its dubious wisdom, has reduced me to  
outcast. It is they who worship the things that are beautiful,
and dishonor, seek to destroy, those things that they label
as ugly. you men! you monsters!
 
in my confusion and my disdain, I sought the shelter of the
wilderness. I wandered into a place of fragrant flowers and
majestic trees, forest animals who recognized that I would  
do them no harm. and I felt akin to this splendor, a connection,
for which I have no name.
 
then I came upon a little girl sitting in the grass, and I hesitated,
that I might frighten her. but she was not afraid; instead, she  
offered me a flower. I took the flower, and I touched her hand,
and I wept.  oh my God, I wept!
 
wept that this monster's heart might be conquered
by a mere child, with flowers...