They should feel our shadows at their backs
Nipping at soft heels
The ribbed fight of a tightening noose
A nose smashed as quickly as it's turned
A darkness devours repeatedly

Drag them from peace
Torn from the quiet of purpose
I create chewed gristle and meat

Their sinew is soft and easily torn
Their bones are made vulnerable by the brittling effects of fear
Break them
They'll feel a triumph to awake

Torn from the quiet of purpose
Drag them from peace
Transcend mortal hostility
I create chewed gristle and meat

This world is a machine
It is efficient and totalling
It breaks
It is a glutton

Ever-moving
I can't be human
I break
A smoke can drive them:
Ignite a flame to light
The recessed corners of their minds
Forced, bent wrist and tight-gripped
To retreat from the promise of the sun

I wait for the skies to throb into life with fire
The burning of the night will be remarkable in that you will not see many fires, but one
Outstanding it will tower
Among the homes of heaven