The Period

It is that time of the month again
When happy times fail
Then rain showers of pain
As merry become wails

Feeling intestines entangle
In the abdomen beneath
Contracting every muscle
And for so long gnawing the teeth

It is that time of the month
When happy games shut
For the angels knife cut
And dirty rivers flow

Out of the greatest passage
As new ovaries develop
Making fertile the virgin lands
And yet another may come

Our sister's enmity
For this process is fated
But the rivers shall dry
And in it's season shall flow again