Recent spur-of-the-moment poetry. Some have already been posted in Verdilac's little corner, but nevertheless...

See below the cut for details and story.

Zack scrunched his nose. Yuck! Why didn't ShinRa ever clean out Sector 9? It smelt like the potty grounds of a King Behemoth!
He splashed through a grungy puddle as he made his way to an old rundown warehouse. The walls flaked white paint as the roof crumbled inward, giving it the appearance of a squashed cake rather than a building. And those chimneys poking up there did look like skewed candles.
Gripping the handle of his broadsword, Zack stepped in through the yawning black hole before him.
"Ooh, blah!!! What a stink!" he moaned, pulling a face like he'd gotten sand in his mouth. Light was minimal, the only source coming from the opening he'd just entered. It was murky and dank with a putrid poisonous gas giving the air a thick sludginess. His head felt stuffy like someone had jammed cotton down his ears. No problem. The mako would deal with that accordingly.
Squaring his shoulders, drew the broadsword from its harness on his back, Zack strode into the darkness. He could barely see, after all, even mako enhanced eyesight could only go so far.
Claws scratched on the cracked stone floor, snuffles, grunts, growls all around, circling him as he slowly made his way further in, broadsword at the ready, his senses on the alert as he strained his ears to pinpoint their locations.
*Shcuuuufff*
Zack leapt back, startled. Heart pounding like a trip-hammer, kicked out in the direction it had happened. His foot made contact. *Thud!* "What?!" he checked again *Thud! Thud!!* "A crate?!" he couldn't believe it! He'd been caught off-guard by a crate?! “Oh. Zack man. Get a hold on yourself. Your jumping at shadows." he admonished himself lightly, then swayed. “What? Dizziness? What's going on? Wh-why... isn't the mako... working?” his legs trembled badly, forcing him to catch hold of the box lest he should collapse.
A flurry of scratches, a rumbling growl, razor-sharp teeth snapping as froth bubbled around the lips.
Zack turned.

They are whispering again
Whispering to sky and sea and wind
Whispering to anyone who will not bend
They are whispering again

They are talking again
Talking to friend and foe and masses
Talking to those that believe and think as they do
They are talking again

They are shouting again
Shouting out at the injustice to them
Shouting out to defend their way, their life
They are shouting again

Gone are the friends
Gone are the foes
Gone is the life they know
Gone, gone, finally gone