love of dried animal skin. (ink included)

i've only watched you slither
up those old letters
a swell in your head
a stamp in your hand
find a way
to make it dead

if not for Moloch's watchful gaze
to keep the sheep in constant shame
i'm sure you'd've already been quartered
and quartered and quartered again

it is the rest of you who make me wonder
how long you'll bury your eyes in the sand
for these leperous, mediacal henchmen
to eat them whilst you pray
that someone else will make it right
because it is far too hard to try
and the only seconds for living
you must hold tightly
like the children you're forgetting
like the children from whom you're stealing
those precious seconds
onto which you're holding.