The Hollow Maw

Writhing within my jaw,
it is no tongue in my maw.
But instead a torrent of filth,
as maggots writhe the puss is spilled.
For it is only decay,
that here has it's way.
For my voice was never heard,
Drowned out by the beauty of other song birds.
I mourn not the loss,
for it is my lowest cost.
Of all the prices you've made me pay,
I never once felt like you heard what I say.
So it makes no difference to me,
that with each of their bites I bleed.
The meat to never be clean and done,
for their battle is already won.
Made to take pain,
the horror never registers in the brain.
As I choke on the blood of my own throat,
all I hear is the victor's gloat.
I curse you dearly for the terror,
yet of all the pain, I alone am the bearer.