reminder; the fire and the knives

A Poem by winter;lyra

witch bound demon
heathen to your oath
feast and rinse away
then pretend to move on

dream on
burning below
holding on to your rope
tho under a thousand hanging daggers
which death is more pleasant? -you're still wondering

which disease can be cured?

you are pretending

fall in
come to war
here, we at last
meet and lead
to the grim round of our bout
taken by our fever
resolute on our reasons

so consumed
and one condemned
to death

there is no retrieval
from our battlefield

only certainty

and unity