A silver claw encarcerated in my lungs.

ol' stain trusthworthy to shut it up myself
somehow concuring yearning defies
conundrums, boy enamoured by fantasy
to pursue my lips as I masterfully interlock
the hang execution rope through use of your hair
resources abundant so as to pester
in decay a feast to celebrate the new age
the Eve of changes of heart, classic.

A silver claw encarcerated in my lungs.
I can feel it dance when I speak
it torments to no lavish end when I eat
From the spoils I have been gifted,
I hate it the most when I sit alone

and what of this demand for accessibility
How come telltales farscretch commodities?
while we try to figure it out culture colapses

Poise tokens of scarce embellishment
pierce my skin, dangle in vain my shinies
Let me rotate thy promise upon my lip
Twice folded and make it painful
rest assured the blood fuels a purpose
The good boy wears warpaint
packed bag, navigates the empty twilight
It too had a name missed in translation
a petty mistake not meant for me.

There is no nobler catastrophe
than the distant cornered prey
Fallen, ten thousand feet under
Alive and overdue, granted a slow death
Father I wished for many things
Not one came to be, sinful in weight
Greed, pride, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath and sloth
All is well when the furies sunder my ribcage
Do not defy me child, do scream my name
as I brand flesh and untie the ligaments of your soul
So fleeting pledges of due honor
Love harbor, ample bay divide
Beckon the others ahead
Hoy it is me.