The corner stone of a building
Of mire and blood and salvage salvation - unsteady steps
'Son' He called
It is a burden on me to make a time capsule
for I cannot endure the taunting and haunting cries of innocent children
In the shadows
Their bloody anguish
Pulling the rope
And the knots drawing to a tightened close
The noose
Time to strangle the hither to loose victim.
Mother - wraiths - their mouths dripping with blood
They haunt the recess of the building
I can envisage a river of blood and tears
The paradox of saving life
Irony in pangs of morass
Murderer
Accomplice in the dark
Advancement
Before my birth a ghost
A descent into the lowermost echelons
Of the underworld
Of a deep gulf
Antagonism between mother and child
O child waiting to be born
This is not the time
Of innocence
The womb a lions den - devours
Lullaby from mother - echoes of death
Child - your death is a blessing
And so I cannot be guilty
Of a crime
You will be reborn later
'Son, crimes and heinous acts
Lay hidden in baptismal purity
Of virginity
Plunged into the heart
Where many are dying and many more
Will die in blood -
And bring the scalpel
Bring the -
And the -
Bring all the paraphernalia
The dire accoutrements
Of the cruel and appalling operation
In filth of human sacrifice
Path - to the grave of the time capsule.
