Rend, Tear, Roar, Thrash.
The beast inside is never quenched. Yearning for a chance to get out, to be backed into a corner so that it may lash out without remorse. To tear and be torn, to bleed and bash and rip and rage. Fire surging in the veins, engulfing everything. It must destroy, it must kill. There is no regret and no fulfillment. There is only the urge, the unending compulsion.
When was it that we decided men were any different than beasts. When did we began to hold our noses up to the other creatures deeming them lesser than we. At what time did we think we were beyond being beasts ourselves? You cannot change what you are, you can only be. We are the beast restrained inside ourselves, lurking behind our eyes, prey all around.
If driven to the extreme, I think I would be wise to let the leash out for a bit. The longer the beast starves, the hungrier it gets. No one can live in a cage forever.