A/N: So one day I was in a poetic mood, and was obsessing over Miroku; this was born a poem about the Air-Rip. -_-;; Erm, eep? It's rather self-explanatory, and it's also a tad odd - this is a total freeform poem. *sweatdrops again*

"Kazaana"

wind tunnel,

void made of nothing.

emptiness that eats everything -

dark

dangerous

air-rip.

where do they go,

the demons now inside you?

perilous space,

death to so many -

one day even the death to him who wields you -

an unholy curse

trapped only through a holy rosary.

you are vengeance

destruction

unleashed power

fortuitous death -

and the void shall disappear

only when he who created you

is dragged down into hell.

*el fin*

:::give your opinion on the Air-Rip*