The Scalpel de Drist

Sweetness have they cut you down and bore far beneath
your war machine. They found your weakness let the
vultures scream for more. The mass of silent deaf can
only lead the blind so long before we see the final
moment breaking down what used to be.

We are the vacant, the wasted and falling faster now.
We are the faceless, the nameless our blood won't hit
the ground.

In a dream I held your head and read your final words
to only me. They found your weakness floating face
down next to me.

Beyond the stranger, beyond your strange.