I Am Contempt

The wheels are in motion
The cart ploughs the soil like a giant lead monument
Dragging the flesh across the soil
With a rag round one's neck
The wheels are in motion
The cart ploughs the soil, leading to the iron polygon

When all is done...

The door closes behind me
And I am flung out into the desert
Then, with a darting flow of pain
I hurl until my guts are as dry as bones

I stare into that scene of nothingness
The fullness of anger paralyses me
Then pain is felt all over with a tightening grip
Voices repeat themselves like a never-ending punishment

I will have my revenge...