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Every step is pain

Every slightest gesture is agony

Muscles rend and bones break

The sight of the bolt or the blade

The blood of suffering

As you cart off your dead pray the sky you’re not

inside

As souls drip from your lips-rejoice

Take turns holding the knife

Cycle of suffering

A tear in their eye

As they watch those before them hanging from the sky

Fell to the floor

Soul rot

Writhing in someone else’s blood

Violent execution

The greatest solitude

Your acquiescence screaming on the floor

Feel the ghosts

Smell the burnt flesh rising

Carve your code

We are not who we were

The sight of the bold of the blade

The watchful eye ignored

As you cart off your dead pray the sky you’re not

inside

As souls drip from your lips-rejoice

Take turns holding the knife