Landmine Marathon
Cloaked In Red
It is still inside and the curtains are all drawnCloaked in red to hide there will be no dawnThis fair child shadowed by a rabid dogDay and night it salivates at heel wits far goneMinutes never rest hours turn to weeksWhat life is this what sight is thisHer nimble fingers skin a cat aliveShuddering at the sight but with no remorseShe rips and tears precious meat the body squealsStill twitching and blinking still thereGrandmother of old tells us keep cupboards closedFilling pantries with worship and divineNot rotting companions we cry for in our sleepStill twitching, still blinking, still thereTwenty hands long and mouth open wideNeedles drag across his skin in the nightFear is not a part of herShame for what's to comeKnife in hand dripping and uncleanResting an arm on a foul wood plankShe begins back and forthThe dull blade takes hours to reach boneNo tears no noiseThis is the offeringWith heavy breathShadows become eyesNo tears no noiseI give a part of me
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