Anopheli - Acts Of Man

Sentinel; I can show you the stain of mans ambition in the excrement of trenches in the stench of entrails in the trembling hands of frightened pawns with guns frigid in their urine fortune of graves already dug where wounds would cease to fester and life clung to corpses this irrepressible pointless triumph in the wreak of gangrene in the bogs of sepsis life sought refuge amongst the bodies dead why is the engine of you comprised of toiling innocence wrung for the oils in your lamps, to grease your bayonets? flesh for fresh munitions the trade seems ever in your favour the mauve bruise limbs offer under sodden woollen sleeves I can see the flutter cadence animate life amongst pinguid ribs the yearn from chasmal sleep steeped in slurry pall you hope to preserve the tallow of you irrational lines demarcating that which is worthy of living that which is worthy of nothing the chronology is never sacred the vagrant drag is ever close It will come for your chalice empty for the altar piece asking of you for everything Recipient; Your proboscis seeks nectar purulent leak of ages the red of rust on shackles in the bowels of sinless men on the trail of tears in the soiled blankets you will find uncountable marks of the guilty you cannot possibly know the dark that resides in man I promise you, I can appoint blame with accuracy the wrongs of antiquity it is apology you seek The twine of binding atrocities? The nod to our failings? pantheon of excuses patsy for the errant cough we teach the young to splutter to choke on our choices you will open chests amongst organs the fat will cling and reminisce every stolen meal It will fondly court and savour each flavour and smile without guilt at the mouth it took it from