CENOBITE SLEEPS INSIDE A DRUMMING THRONE

Swaying heads
from starving beds
drift into solitude
amongst marching ranks
in polished tomorrow uniforms
while sleeping floors
caress the stolen ones
those slender tiny thoughts
I crucified my hand's insight
so many turned towards that night
each flesh and raw

THE CENOBITE
HEEDS A DRUMMING THRONE
THE CENOBITE
LAID ALONE