Crack

The sludge of days
Slicing away
Through these virulent
Vomit-fresh lumps of sound
Cataract eyes
Lies in sweating palms
The same tired rides
The same tired arms
Stains of memory
Of the cattle crowd
Stains of memory
Of the cattle crowd

Endless repetitive marching feet
Hacking through charred and beaten meat
Hung up on hooks
Withered looks
Walls of eyes
Burning books
Pinned
Positioned
Numbered
Neat
Rancid
Rotting
Incomplete
And poking like needles
Lost under skin
The dirt has found a crack
And trickled in

My empty mind scrapes the sky like a fractured hand
Banality howls though each bastard crack
I never expected to understand
The mouths screeching silence
The rope going slack
Reminding me now of the things that I lack
And reminding me now of the things that I lack

Endless repetitive marching feet
Hacking through charred and beaten meat
Hung up on hooks
Withered looks
Walls of eyes
Burning books
Pinned
Positioned
Numbered
Neat
Rancid
Rotting
Incomplete
And poking like needles
Lost under skin
The dirt has found a crack
And trickled in

A mangled monologue of mutilated time
Screaming
Brutalise
Brutalise
Brutalise the sublime
A mangled monologue of mutilated time
Screaming
Brutalise
Brutalise
Brutalise the sublime

Still
Endless repetitive marching feet
Hacking through charred and beaten meat
Hung up on hooks
Withered looks
Walls of eyes
Burning books
Pinned
Positioned
Numbered
Neat
Rancid
Rotting
Incomplete
And poking like needles
Lost under skin
A mottled patch of spreading sin
The dirt has found a crack
And trickled in



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