THE POEM SERIES: THE SIXTH VERSE.

SAVAGES
I rip apart the flesh of a bleeding man,
Smear gravely
Around my face,
The marrow silks of a beating heart,
As I gorge myself with glee
On the abandoned waste of a man just like me.

We dance in the moonlight
Like the savages that we are,
We give thanks to the Moonchild,
To the birth of a nuance,
For we’ve ripped out the entrails of mortal men
And devour with razor sharp teeth,
The fantasy of a bloodless night.

Have you ever played with the smooth hide
of a man’s skin?
Danced around, drunk off madness
As you purged into guts with feverish fury,
Thump! Thump! as the heart slowly beats?
Gushing heavily as wounds freely bleed?

Still, we give thanks to the death of these inglorious bastards,
Adore the red stains perched upon our cruel lips,
The blue eyed ones are the first to go,
While the crimsons like us,
Watch all as the moon turns full.

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