Birth

Something begins within the bleak,
turns and twists and deforms,
the conception of a pallid little freak,
in the dark murky waters it squirms.
Preparing itself for solace and dance,
it drinks deep of the toxic fluids;
a quagmire womb, its sustenance.
Something from the start went wrong,
a wretched beast of vile malaise
was born, was mocked, a song
of parody penned in fecal stains.

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