Sorrows grow in soil of desperation. Fertilized with hatred, cultivated by desperate ambition. With bloodied knife we stab the earth and gouge it with petrol. Setting fire to dreams others engineered. We reckon the pleas of anxiety yet we do… nothing. We stare blankly. We are the soldiers of jealousy, a murder of crows in surveillance. Flesh we seek to devour. From the convent of the pious our destination deviates. We march in harmony to death we perpetuate. Judas embraced us with his soiled cloak, dirtied hands. His bony finger lathered in that macabre liquid. Silver coins jingle in cacophony. Discord wakes the silent night that we fear hosts our nightmare.

The noose fits perfectly the gentle slope of the collar. Rest we consumed as the last wind escapes the lungs.

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