The Beast of Worship stood over the Lamb.
Two tongues lulled out of Her mouth,
But She saw that It would not run.
It could have. It could leave at any time.

And yet It remained.
The Beast smirked, Her teeth bared.
‘Do you not know your fate?
You will perish if you stay.
Have you no will?’

The Lamb’s Four Eyes glanced,
And It spoke back.
‘I have will. My will is strong.
For my Death exists for Worship.
May my bones shatter
May my brain dissolve
May my blood spill.
You are not what I fear.’

And the Beast let It go.
She had gotten what she wanted.