Drip, Drip, Drip.

From the wounds of the dead,

The nectar from such lifeless fruit,

The liquid that all men fear to see,

Covering their guilty hands.

Trembling grips on their metal sticks,

Swords clash.

Blood sprays.

Seeping into the ground among the gore and watering your earth,

To be set free of its cumbersome body with the wonderful bloodshed of war.

 

Paranoia, hallucination, all lead up to the path of juice,

Apparition of a dagger,

Points to the crime,

Come follow the streaming blood on your weapon,

Open the mind’s eye to commit such a careless crime.

 

Stab and slash, splatter and frame.

Take the cowards way out from behind,

Hold that knife high.

Painting with the edged brush,

Streams of paint cover the canvas.

The masterpiece is not yet finished,

Go for the final stroke.

Buckets and buckets of ruby red gush out.

When everything is said and done, you are covered with the paint.

Frame the servants,

Show your wife,

But wait; the servants like your work, they say amen,

They know it was like God’s hand committed this act of fate,

Wash, Wash, your paint away,

Red to pink,

Pink to translucent...

 

Take the money in moist palms.

With this deed become assassins no longer a lowly peasant.

Mighty men stand before the path,

Raise the shining metal high,

Hack away,

Brush off the sticky gore.

Before the man must fall,

Bellow “let it come down.”

Blood covers the vision of the other swine,

Let him get away,

Rest with the aforementioned farmers in the pools of ruby blood.

 

Search for the traitor.

All are guilty,

Crack their heads upon the ground,

Rouge radiates all around.

Free the hue of war,

Carcass after carcass; stack them high,

Fresh and withered; all sprinkled with blood,

The job is done, now deal with your pain.

 

Take revenge upon, your enemy

And let his life spill out before the world.

Dark as night and dirty like his soul,

Soak the clothes, warp the mind.

The finale is soon to come, but with a bang I shall take my curtain call,

Sever the wretch’s head from his massacred body,

Hold the ghastly face high,

Dark ambrosia drips onto the longing lips.