In the underbelly of a discontented beast, a steaming stillness sounds

Echoes swallowed entirely in the folded spaces,

As if agony has died,


Where now dust never settles, the boding is screaming loud

Every moment here seemingly baseless,

Partial to a side of pride,


A small belch heard on the outside, can’t even save those who drowned,

Bathed in acerbic thoughts behind pale faces,

Forgotten all that’s outside,


A bottom ribbed with green mushrooms, happy as if in the ground,

Something about it hinting at further strange places,

Only seen by hungry eyes that pried,



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