Malformed Ligature

Sipping nectar from the source Led down a bloodied path A mirrored helm / a plastic cell Fateless road to ruin Children with guns, fiends with shields held high Martyred under some spiteful flag for nothing Bodies mulched for profit, for glory, for godhood This malformed ligature is binding in me forever A wounded deer leaps higher I’ve heard the hunter tell Tis the ecstasy of death And then the brake is still A pox on our souls On our ruined house Less than we desire And more than we deserve A wounded deer leaps higher in the dark Grace. Morality. Fealty. Malformed ligature A pox on our mutilated souls Coagulated Bliss.