{"id":87772,"date":"2021-06-26T09:26:03","date_gmt":"2021-06-26T13:26:03","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=87772"},"modified":"2021-07-04T03:50:48","modified_gmt":"2021-07-04T07:50:48","slug":"the-last-supper","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2021\/06\/the-last-supper\/","title":{"rendered":"HOUR 2 The Last Supper"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>The last Supper<\/p>\n<p>Friend, associate, colleague?<br \/>\nThe words escape me, absent from my vocabulary,<br \/>\nPerhaps a paired frosty soul,<br \/>\nThrust into this icy existence.<br \/>\nWielding a hand of God, or his adversary.<\/p>\n<p>Removed from the therapeutic environment,<br \/>\nHe sits at my table, haunted by voices,<br \/>\nDiscourse of a split mind.<br \/>\nI serve him fine cutlets, my own recipe.<br \/>\nTender, prepared, just as I prepare him.<\/p>\n<p>\u2018Many go unnoticed, absent from my records.<br \/>\nUnderhand, silent deviants, hiding.<br \/>\nSome with phobias, others with philias,<br \/>\nAttracted to the pain inflicted on others,<br \/>\nSuch is life.\u2019<\/p>\n<p>I carve the pale meat, a steady hand,<br \/>\nUsed to the blade.<br \/>\n\u2018One demon did solicit advice, secretly.<br \/>\nA penchant for youthful screams,<br \/>\nA need to watch the eye\u2019s light extinguish.\u2019<\/p>\n<p>He digs into the flesh placed before him,<br \/>\nListening to me, and the dark tones of his mind.<br \/>\n\u2018Without prejudice he would prey,<br \/>\nA hyena or rat, scuttling in his own filth.<br \/>\nHis grim needs growing ever more macabre.<\/p>\n<p>He sat at this table, much like yourself,<br \/>\nBut without my integrity, a gift bestowed on you.<br \/>\nMedication took hold, sinking him into slumber,<br \/>\nFrom which he awoke, paralysed,<br \/>\nSevered spine. Able to feel, blade perfectly placed.<\/p>\n<p>Slaughtered over time, I relished his consequences,<br \/>\nEmpathy inflicted; empathy enforced.<br \/>\nHis sins bled from his living corpse,<br \/>\nAnd offered to my honoured guest,<br \/>\nA fine meal?\u2019<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The last Supper Friend, associate, colleague? The words escape me, absent from my vocabulary, Perhaps a paired frosty soul, Thrust into this icy existence. Wielding a hand of God, or his adversary. Removed from the therapeutic environment, He sits at my table, haunted by voices,&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":278,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-87772","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/87772","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/278"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=87772"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/87772\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":99313,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/87772\/revisions\/99313"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=87772"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=87772"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=87772"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}