Resurrected and Dejected

It was cozy in the grave

After a hard-fought decade of screaming electric intensity

to sleep the sleep of the just, knowing that

Selling Out was never an option

It became comfortable, something one could get used to

Still

the prelude to the grave was a whisper, not the expected scream

against its will

and sleep came slowly and reluctantly

and even in the comfort of the grave, there were still nagging dreams of

Unfinished Business

But a decade passed

And another

And almost another

and the dreams had almost faded, finally, away

When suddenly the grave was disturbed

the corpse awakened from its blessed slumber

shaken and dragged back out into the light

Let me sleep! the corpse tried to scream

But its voice was drowned out by promises

and old dreams reignited

It did not take long for those dreams to be revealed for what they were

Mold-covered lies and reminders of past abuses and disrespects

Again the corpse tried to scream, even as the leather strap fell across its shoulder

as the fists clutched the sticks

as the torture devices were plugged in, turned up, tuned up, fucked up

Crack a can of Rainier and shut up and play and be thankful for the scraps we’ve thrown you

Fucking puppet corpse

You don’t know when to stay Dead

And the corpse stupidly asked

You mean I had a choice?

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