Killing of a Sacred Deer

Grab your shotgun, and your bullets.

Cock it. Pull it! Let the bang ring through the air.

Let it fall down, and let it drown out the noise.

Innocence is sweet subjection.

Haunted by that doe's complexation.

There no going back, there's only dredging forward.

Ignorance is blissful silence.

Blame is fetid, and futile.

I won't fight this, I feel tethered.

Through the thicket, our panic sets in.

They hath drawn from an ancient soil.

Blood will spill again.

Our flesh will feed the worms.

We have killed something sacred.

Angels will hunt us on high.

The deers want us naked.

To humiliate our pride.

We have done something evil.

Mercy will no longer suffice.

Because we are not strong we are feeble.

We know we must pay the price.