No-one survives such an attack and we all stood like monuments baring the nails in her back Still moving sinews in a graceful impression of life shyly the arms, shyly the beasts fold fear die Ten fingers driven through the heart, through the core as I stare into those strange, magnetic eyes and wonder: (for you / me) are there demons there? I knew it all the time. The misanthropes were right to crucify themselves in the need of a saviour. Still moving sinews struggle fearsome with a lifeline forlorn, caught in the nest of the impending dark fate. Semi-worlds, lifetight lodges where faces stiffen, plagued with the frost of disease Our capsules barely meet The worms of disorder like living black numbers that drip from her pergament skin Joined in sweet fury to anoint the decay fragile and reddened in lifelost array