Backhanded Interest from Cemetery Preston by Greber

Your will, once strong/Turned jittered hind-leg/Under mild strain/
Fate took the wheel to dull our young faces down/Into scowling ruffians/All unrecognized/Aligned to conspire so long/Invisible returns on devout investments/
Backhanded interest/Blessing to suffer/Watching without a shot in the world/I am the bloodied soil where our palms plunged deep/The horny stench in the taverns/In the bars/Kept the goodness pacing outside in the snow/You salivate to take his place/The beasts breath at my neck/I refuse to go back/Warmth stares into me but avoids my selfish grasp/My pain/My woes/All delusion waits inside/A drug destined couch/Ascend with contempt for the light while your hands are still tied/Through freshly squeezed veins your sour permission flows.

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