The Parting of a Neck

They ache from a place that's not far from our own. Incessant pattering

If you listen closely you can hear the suffering of strained twine

There's only a membrane that separates us. It's very thin, and weak in its resolve

It's a place from which hands can reach, but mortality is foreign

Incantations hang from the shelves of bent whispers

And corpulent hands

The noose that they gave me, you can hear it unfurl

The parting of a neck is deafening

Piloted eyes burst with a clandestine revelation

All a pool of blackened hammers. Our spirit the nail. Our bodies the anvil

They stare with the weight of them

A horror gapes, the yawning mouth of Hell

Countless teeth chew the bones of weaker men

Devour my failings, and the character that led me there

Cleanse me of filth. Reduce me to void

Cleanse me of filth

Crush my body between jaws of persecution

Cleanse me of filth. Reduce me to void

Cleanse me of filth. Reduce me to void

Cleanse me of filth

They carve curses from the feet of our broken children

They reached for our throats when tolerance burned away

It was an alien notion

Incantations hang from the breathes of bent whispers

And corpulent hands

That noose that they gave me, you can hear it unfurl

The parting of a neck is deafening