Acrid Canon

The thought of bringing to term This thing growing within Elevates my disgust To a crippling wretch Feeling it crawl into me from the void Is beyond gut wrenching It's beyond anything One could have dreamt Or created fictitiously Can you control what can not be killed? What is to become of my imminent newborn Taken to a room by gurney Examined under fluorescent light Everything I witnessed after this I documented in my acrid canon Taking mental note of all the horrors Happening around me to scribe down While amid the massive havoc After my eyes tamed to the light I surveyed the room and saw the abnormality Crowning out of the person expressionless Spread next to me, I vomited out of fear Hazmatted men now fill the room Gathering around the bed Admiring a four foot coiling gleaming slug Blacking out from what I witnessed Waking up and wondering If what I saw was real or faked Or some kind of a sickly fever The man hovering above me Told me I was close to hatching Peering around the room again I saw the gore that proved it happened Morbid visions Repeating again and I vomit in fear My throw up made the man recoil Enough for me to run away No relief from my escape The town just bore more fodder For my acrid canon Along the stretch of road before me Far as any eye could see Children strung from poles and scalped Their skin and hair had been removed Around their neck they wore a sign Freeing the first that I could Caused them to scream Alerting their harvesters Pliers and scissors in hand The elderly ran Towards me in multiples Bolting into a near idling vehicle They chase me faster Than humanly possible As I rode away I looked down At the sign the child wore That stuck to me with clotting blood I peeled it from my chest and read it "Write the name of what you feed it In the chalk made of their bone On the brick where it lay dreaming And see your future" Panic breathing I can feel it Crawling in me Breaking my water I grab a pen and as I fade I write the burned in memories Of my canon Acrid canon Of my canon Acrid canon I pound on the horn And beg not to give birth to it This thing is in me, the Boanet's growing The Boanet's growing The thing is in me, the Boanet's growing The Boanet's growing The thing is in me, the Boanet's growing The Boanet's growing The thing is in me, the Boanet's growing The Boanet's growing The Boanet is coming out