Get Off

With surgeon hands I picked apart
The horrors of your joy
And levelled out your spinal chart
Freeing your limbless employ

You are tied to a wall of dirty bones
They puncture away your pride
Leaving the blood laying on the stones
That commemorate your life

Burdening my daft and shallow gape
With even more surprise
The lion's breath had too escaped
Diving at your lies

Who knows the banquet of trials
Which feeds into contempt
While every heighted vial filled with boiling bites
Leaves you to lament