I had the chance to Meet Maker;
I fought it, I tried to.
Their eyes grove wounds in my back,
Shaped rivers in my cheeks,
Reaching towards me with the menace of an obligatory offer.
Their ritual crowded them into masses,
Into shadowy shapes
That I was scared of.
The beat of their drum to the beat of my shrinking heart,
Their grotesque form devouring its feeble fight.
It stopped —
It silenced —
Maker, satisfied and quenched,
Went on Maker's way.