Movement stirs the beast within

stillness keeps it at bay.

Mountains moved, sins attached

it never comes out to play.

A ritual born of angers words

keeps liquidity harbored inside.

Forcing winds blow truths

but not past benevolent pride.

Crystal figures stand and watch

as a babe is passed around.

Lost, beaten, battered, and bruised

she is never really found.

Running hopelessly from the darkness

she finds a home within a crystal.

Never finding true peace and love

she does what she is able.

A crucible with high principle

her battles taken with force.

One thing you never mess with

is lady embroiled with anger, of course.

Grown, tired, strong and able

she decides to visit the beast.

Back to where passion collided

no anger within her had decreased.

The lady harbored the anger

kept as a trove of unrelenting fury.

Rocks won’t kill the beast she wants

time to get down and dirty.

Systematically removing bits of chain

she began with sanctification.

The hallucination of purification

that answered all creation.

Relation became blasphemy

the male gender execrate.

Now who would like to battle the lady next?

Ah yes… Fate.

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