You would fear to touch and kill
As a heavy burden to rot in hell.
So lock your doors and chain your mind
That buried dirt would seek to find.
You lit a candle to wax upon the floor
Scraped it clean from the walls.
Sterilising your wounds intent
Aiding your flight, it won't help.
Like red blood cut from the veins
Dreams that night were drained.
You've lost your mind
To the waxing moon.
