Cryptics' Fabled Tales

In-Tacked

Thing begrudgingly grows,

something cracks,

something wicked has been exposed,

verbosity shrieks with whacks;

Undistinguished amounted toes,

bottomless as evident lacks,

moaned turbulent speaks to a slow,

floors swept not from slacks,

upon lightening energy, they've rode;

Quickly sap....

Leap to survival mode,

place heavy objects next to door: stacked,

surely, nothing near to be owed;

Did thee play with the foreboded game of speaking with the dead flak?

Acknowledgment never not desired willingly to stay silently bestowed –

Walls are writhing; readily bowing wracks,

'Thee.... mine.... our souls are doomed needlessly bode,

ye should be first since thyself made such despairing attack....'

Once devilish creatures are of distractively throwed,

My feet shall beat the earth till soles crack,

or yet: erode –

Spree across another day with self in-tacked.