Dare we speak,

lest our voices be heard above the din

of an unnatural birth,

a birth of many generations at once

and we it's keepers watch

this horror from below take form...



Dare we say,

we consecrate this union of manured flesh

upon which boils lester

and on opening, the sores reveal "children",

umbilical cords receiving liquid filth

an act somewhat obscane...



And so,

slowly they scatter

away from their blemished "nests"-

oftspring born inside out

moist organs adorning breast and torso

and from their bowels they nurse...



So what purpose would these serve?

A creature which mates itself

and spawns visceral demons!

Dare we say,

there's to be a change in the food chain-caveat...