Drain was a somewhat strange Inktober prompt to get around. While I'm not overly fond of the illustration, I quite enjoy the poem.. 1 out of 2 is still good! Below is the transcription:
the skin on her knees
turned to scabs, as she
crawled forward through
crimson muck and grit.
please, she begged, weeping.
drain this misery from me.
no, it replied solemnly.
you are the perfect feasting
grounds for my children.
'Mercy'
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