Torture Paradox

Open wounds so plentiful for salt and further wounding Bloody arms embrace the torture, come to bring me pain Wicked dance on broken glass in the showers of acid Dying so exquisitely we turn and turn again And though you may weep forever, you will never feel the same Unending visceral torment, agonizing moments stretching on and on Time is strange now, wrinkled and distorted I can hear the echoes of distance voices Sharpened weapons, gleaming steel, await the ritual torture And soon the exchange will begin again, flesh ripped open anew You so wish for this to end, and yet you will not break free You just want to lay down and die, but you will linger on