At The Mouth

A beginning unlike unrest
If we slave
An even end or froth
At the mouth

We slave our hands
Our brains our spines
Spineless prayer perverse
Force and vision

Don't skew me I'm so prone
In a shadow my focus
My shadow it belongs to you
My blood, you my beloved

Now cursed and even
That taste seems old
Or a triumph of infection
I'd say I'm guilty

Of corruption
On this less than silly gesture
Not a world
Not in part

But entirely the lust
Thrust itself
Our hands our brains our spines
We this collective

Crowning conscious endeavor achievement
My internal strife
Manufactured cancer
Abuses physically

Upon my body
Abuses mentally
Without any forecast
Or result consequence

Only impulse
And you ask me to be a man
Only a monkey can defend a man
Only a monkey can defend a man