A/N: Don't let me near a thesaurus again! Ok, weird poem, my first on ffn. There you go...
Yet Another
The cracked moon chimes the time, unseen by unseeing eyes,The breaths of the sacred are held, the ancient ritual shall soon commence.
As one bound cry terrifies the weak,
To originate the tormenting ceremony,
Where the faint soul cringes, and weeps for the grave.The troubled womb has yet to lay its germ in the fertile earth of disease,
Desolate it screams, the breaking has begun,
What dares deliver itself to a world where wounds are split, tears are
spilt,
Where even the reckless are subdued to shadows by the bleeding trees, the
crying blossoms,
The choking fruit.Be it as it may, it is branded, now exposed to the treacheries of struggle,
To drown in a blackened pool, filthy,
Where only the foul and ugly survive.
Alas, the dirt rejects it; its need is excessive,
Interminably expendable, it will not survive the night.With a gurgle it smothers, too much, too much!
It grapples the tide,
There is no ground,
It is flushed with a mass of corrupted fluid,
It is wrenched, already perished, by the crimson soul.Thus dies yet another incompletion.