Clock runs, predator, prey, defying.
The pause in the tick leading fast into the tock.
Keep to the light the Demon whispers,
Death seeping in the ear, crawling, lying, dying in the brain.
Carbon copies rolling one after the other,
the production line full, choking, smoking, filling the gaps.
Black faces in a sea of green.
Nothing stands out, nothing is new.
Crosses and bread and the fingers in the wine.
Pouring and dabbling and giggling in time.
The giant grey face, skin chipping away hanging,
dim and lethargic from the great city gates.
She speaks to me, the high and the mighty.
The night and the day, the light and the dark.
Anything and everything, just roll with it my dear.
For God only knows they’ll crucify you anyway.