Martyr of the Soil

Here we exist upon the cliff tops

Exhausted and empty

Sneering into the darkness below

Wet palms, coppery and thick

Lines of red to mark our progress

But to what end?

We are a part of this plague

Unclean and nai"ve

We climb upon the cross

To be crowned?

This will deaden all but the brightest lights

And I personify the black

I am despair

The futility and the frustration

These two hands make liars of us all

Denial and disaster are mine

Step up to the gallows, defeated and lost

Fall away

Resign yourself to this faithless leap

For there can be no half measures

And the noose is already around our necks

Jerk awake with the revelation

And dangle above the maggots

The twine exists as the separator

Through suffocation and sodden eyes

She will not hold