Writer, Poet, Antagonist

Ritual for forgiveness of dire transgression.

Should the heart beat abate?

Should the sinew lay slack?

Pull the tongue, Lay its straight,

watch it turn, see it blacken?

 

When you’re sure death is certain,

only then you begin.

Speak the corpse full of shadows

dig in quiet, turn it in.

 

To the nothingness send

every atom of guilt.

For the dead do not judge

never could, never will.

 

You can give it a funeral

you can leave it to rot

No matter, your whispers

will soon be forgot.

 

*the corpse in question can be entirely of your choosing.