In Throes

Spin the blade then drive it deep.
Combat these shadows that do creep.
Fuelling nightmares which refuse to abate.
How long before they have more than physical shape?

As iris twins beneath the sky.
It is time to snap this lie.
Adhering to principles sold for a paltry sum.
Drowning your fears as they haunt whenever day is done.

Idealised but failing to soar.
Subtract that which cannot adore.
While beneath these stumps a new anger grows.
Threatening to rend that which continues to tempt others to their death throes.

Mulched and beaten.
Grieving as they are torn sunder.
Here in this tomb you will find no wonder.
Pillaged by hands obsessed with pain.
What lies beneath lingers in emotions of shame.

Compounding terror until a termination point forms.

Drink in hunger while memory shifts.
Beware of charity for some will not be gifts.
As curses doled are prisons in all but name.
Each of the devoted antagonists plays a role in this lopsided game.
Designed to bring calamity down on you.
Face their accusations under every burning sun!