What unknown face now breaks the silence?. What tipping force disturbs the balance?. Swift and sober, comes a voice, offering a bitter choice. Take up a crime and serve the sentence, offer up a final penance.
Twisting through contorted limb. Sober now from distant whim. Batten down the hatches. The storm approaches, the thunder crashes. It cannot wait. It must be now.
Death is callous, strange and sudden. A pious, indignant, drooling glutton. Whose hands are soft, warm, inviting. Whose desperate advances seem useless fighting.