Mutation Poem by Thomas Ware

Seeded from the stars,
These things devour,
They live to mar but are unscarred,
Down in the deep they cower.

Once they were worms.
Fat maggots that squirmed.
Now they are massive,
Gross and passive.

Grubs crawled down into the dark,
They fed on rotting things,
They lived in stone caves, stark,
And evolved with unreal wings.

The more they ate,
The fatter they grew,
And now they're great,
In size and sinew.

Fat creeping menace,
Squirming through crevices,
Feeding on the dead,
But pale not red.

Thousands of eyes,
Thousands of legs,
But nothing to spy,
Nowhere to tread.

Immense and giant claws,
Feeling, grasping fingers,
A gargantuan maw,
Even dead, their rank essence lingers.

Nothing can kill them,
And nothing would want to.
Surrounded by phlegm,
Nothing this wants to chew.

They've lived here,
Not alone,
But disgusting,
They roam.

The essence of degradation is mutation.