Rope - Leeched

They are the same

Their tongues

Their spines

Gripped by the throat

Nothing left but the rind

Bring to me

Your confession and a scribe

The remains of his jealousy

In her bleeding eyes

Kill god

Kill god

Kill god

Kill god

Who gave you your untold grace

Thriving on a field you built from their bones

How long until you realize

None of your tongues matter now

Listen now as the tide turns in

Over the marsh eroding the sand

Craning through a coated grain echoing through the halls

How close are you willing to come to the edge to the rope