When something new is born

The benign rumble is curling everywhere, and here is desperation for noise,
With holding the breath i have waited, in patience held poise.
like the acoustic lives within silence, silences we ought to rend,
just because it did start, every song is supposed to end.

Just like when something new is born, its end is made already,
Somehow we will be able to get it done, it will always be undone ultimately.
When every afflatus thrives on skeptics, skeptics to then suspend,
Nonetheless it might actualize, every new thing is realized in its end.

Beads of sweat shining against skin, vigor pulled tight,
End at a length of bandeau, arise at the gun-shot.
Nothing can start without its finish, finishes we forever procrastinate,
That it could not quite begin, every race was to unless terminate.

Skin shattering against skin , grip meets face in rose mayhem,
Men and their means changed, but fights remain the same.
For every push there is a pull, pulls to otherwise pretend,
Surer than it must begin, every fight must come to an end.