Poetry By Porcelain Prince

Crimson Moon

Crimson red.
Glowing in the sky.
This bloody orb taunts me, high above.
The yells of agony escape my body, as my bones shatter and rebuild.
My pulse pounds in my ears.
The deafening cracks of my bones are a cruel reminder of my reality.
The sick beast inside, wages war on my being.
The essence of who I am fades, to pure animalistic nature.
The snarling of the beast inside me takes hold of me.
As my final bones break and reform.
I am reborn.
I am no longer in control.
Perhaps I never was.