Black ink and sunbeams poetry

Tapir-beaked masters,
white toothed,
in the tower,
above our shoulders,
hold tight our strings,

brother,
like me,
your anger too,
ebbs with the moon,
our life, spent on the line,
once again,
cast before swine,
irreverently,

One day,
soon,
even our sorrow
will have its due,
and resentment,
festering in the hollow,
before the soul,
consumes the remedy,
consumes the world