Your Tongue. My Soul.

Your tongue is the bit
Guides the whole horse
Headed straight for the pit
In your lack of remorse

Your mouth is the trigger
Of that weapon you hold
Cling to it tighter
With all the lies that you’ve told

Your teeth tie the rope
Of a noose for your throat
Then it waits for you there
As you handcraft that note

Ears begging for a scratch
From that last lie you tell
I sit impatiently by
And watch it drag you to hell

Now who’s sin is softer
In the scheme of the whole?
Your tongue of destruction,
Or the rot of my soul?