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.