They hold me down, disperse my limbs, into scratched chain cuffs that lock me in upon an altar black.
I shared with them my Heart of Gold.
Daggers drawn, they pierce my skin, nausea dawns, my blood runs thin, and pools around my back.
They dissect me for my Heart of Gold.
Hands diving in, they carve from me, a sacred treasure, now lost purity, to heat it over fire.
I watch them melt my Heart of Gold.
They pour the liquid, in pewter chalice, and pass it round, each face of malice, gulping down as I expire.
They’ve consumed my Heart of Gold.
They writhe in dance, and start to caw, now carrion crows, with beak and claw, and start to soar above.
I’m no longer with a Heart of Gold.
The final bird, it drops a stone, inside my chest, chilling bone.
Can I no longer love?
I’m left with a stone that’s frozen cold...