It first rouse, a cold stone, deep down
in the depths of the warm darkness
It seems to sap the warmth away slowly
As if feeding quietly
Suddenly it hatches
It bursts from the cold stone explosively
It soars throughout
Starting as only a dark wraith
Exploring, probing, prying
Eagerly, appetently, inquisitively
It grows at an alarming rate
huge claws, sharp and broad
Horns growing on it's head
A ridge of spikes forms quickly along its spine
Soon it fills the Space
Becoming enraged and panic-stricken
Suddenly, and powerfully it rips and shreds
Destroying everything it can
Like a terrible hurricane of claws
In an instant only the outer walls remain
The creature calms
surrounded by cold, dead, silent, darkness
The warmth and life silenced and mangled
It hunches down, becoming smaller again
Although larger than its beginning
