The Mold Testament
Inhuman Condition
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White hot outside, ice within
Force a malicious smile
Rope in hand, determined win
With the face of a friend
The grin fell away, hate becomes clear
The stench of rot, new king of odor
Draining the meal
Irises ringed with blood
Broken teeth, a person you trust
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Soaked with death, putrid wet
Cracks in the picture glow
Abhorrent path, ignore the facts
With the face of a friend
The grin fell away, hate becomes clear
The stench of rot, new king of odor
Draining the meal
Punishment, tinged with love
No reprieve, this person you trust
Quicksand embrace