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Myriad forms writhe, rooted in agony,
Twisted limbs reaching forward in unsatiable hunger towards the dry innards gushing out, that not even the circling vultures care to touch.

Revel in suffering,
Nailed by laws that bind the flesh. Written with excrement on abstruse walls of the lightless the temple of rot.

And silence surrounds each slowing beat of the drum.
Yet another unity torn apart in the throes of diremption.

Piercing eyes and ears, cutting the nose, ripping the tongue, flaying the skin, cracking the skull.

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