Still Moving Sinews Paroles

fold
fear
die

Ten fingers driven
through the heart, through the core
as I stare into those strange, magnetic eyes
and wonder: (for you / me)
are there demons there?

I knew it all the time. The misanthropes were right
to crucify themselves in the need of a saviour.
Still moving sinews struggle fearsome with a lifeline forlorn,
caught in the nest of the impending dark fate.

Semi-worlds, lifetight lodges
where faces stiffen,
plagued with the frost of disease
our capsules barely meet fragile and reddened in lifelost array