Claws weep as they crack the flesh
trembling ivory
palms pushing the dagger deep
It is so      much      harder
       to kick a fallen soldier,
Your hollow aching carcass
pours gangrene through my feet
knocked back by iron ankles
to waste hopeless at my knees
It is so      much      harder
       to cut an infant leech,
Withered, the child stands sobbing
grasping with blackened arms
they will drench you in their oil
he will set fire to your scars
It is so      much      harder
       to turn your back on deathly innocence,
The hands reach out of the ocean
from lungs that fill with the sea
now scrub the salt
into their sinking wounds
each time you choose to leave,
See the hungry floor of the seabed
it pulses with beating hearts
no matter how much you love them
their teeth will devour your parts.