The Uprising

It strikes at night
when one least expects
When all in the house
are asleep in their beds

Blankets in tidy formations
covering their occupants
Pillows plumped beneath
sleepy heads

Then it comes
the uprising of the
unwanted guest

It gurgles and moves
gathering its forces
gaining momentum
Then...

momentarily it halts
to see about some acid
That's been lingering about
looking for some action

Together they make a potion
like a wanted cocktail
before continuing on
its upward march

At last it hits the sweet spot
where momentum and
force combine for
volcanic effect

which takes this vile bile cocktail
from its host, to the world
that exists just outside
the mouth.