The Elder (Cat of the Hills)

December 26, 2011
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"Lay his heart to rest on a cot,
Leave it screaming and beating
At those white walls of skin
That can barely hold his sin in."

I am a wounded animal,
And I want my warm, dark cave
To fold my frame into,
So that I can curl up and fall through.

But my home's been taken by Lot,
Where his daughters are eating
Salt from their mother's hand,
And dreaming of a hard-by land.

Our tales are twisted in moral,
So much the same, save
I ate but a bother,
While you laid down your own father.

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