It is still inside and the curtains are all drawn Cloaked in red to hide there will be no dawn This fair child shadowed by a rabid dog Day and night it salivates at heel wits far gone Minutes never rest hours turn to weeks What life is this what sight is this Her nimble fingers skin a cat alive Shuddering at the sight but with no remorse She rips and tears precious meat the body squeals Still twitching and blinking still there Grandmother of old tells us keep cupboards closed Filling pantries with worship and divine Not rotting companions we cry for in our sleep Still twitching, still blinking, still there Twenty hands long and mouth open wide Needles drag across his skin in the night Fear is not a part of her Shame for what's to come Knife in hand dripping and unclean Resting an arm on a foul wood plank She begins back and forth The dull blade takes hours to reach bone No tears no noise This is the offering With heavy breath Shadows become eyes No tears no noise I give a part of me
