Pretend I didn't know they brought children to play boisterously inside
Running through the darkness screaming making echoes laughing out of terror
Only when energy drops when the halls grow silent do I know when their fear
Practically falls asleep and they are unaware I have no shame nor pride
Only hunger demands tribute from city-states like Athens or Dublin
Succulent flesh from Greece with olive oil coating their skin without error
Ask me not my plans outside the labyrinth smoke cigarettes drink beer
Likely I will die here my karma is darker than the pitch of this cave
Monsters may be deformed children who look like bulls forced to devour the skin
Over tiny muscles the meat of small children never cooked always raw
Develop a dark taste acquired for sashimi or raw fish from the sea
England starved those children in Ireland sent them to Crete covered in straw
Swift essayed before Joyce described Cork as a maze breakfast with Earl Grey tea
Tranquil before their deaths children sacrificed life with adults none too brave
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