We were the first of our kind to die;
pillaged, raped, and writhed.
Scalded out a tar pit
Hanging off our bones
Torn flesh and promise
lidless and infant
parasites, glutton and sage.
An eminence grise
pulling down, and down, and down.
What do you want me to do?
What do you want me to be?
You're the only truth I've known,
that I've never let light.
Well murder came,
before the word.
credits
from Murder came before the Word,
released December 1, 2014
Cello by Nicole Robson
Violin by Sophie Green
Clarinet by Tim Hardman