I.

Licking the salty dust off the toothed ground

Tongues bloody

Puddles of blood—no—red wine

A wine cask shattered

Feasting on its contents

Devouring it like Savage Beasts

Men, Women, Children

Cupping the wine in their weak hands

Soaking and twisting rags over infant mouths

Chasing trailing streams

Cleaning the street like vermins

Wild eyes staring into the deep burgundy

Lawless and drunken

Dancing in unholy circles

As if their damned souls were…triumphant

II.

Noble wine spilt

Spreading like fire on the ground

Lakes of wine—no—blood

Slaughtered aristocracy

No pity or tears

Wild and hungry for blood

Brothers and Sisters of Revolution

Beaten, shackled, condemned

Free like the blood running from the corpse

Tongues like sponges

Every drop salvaged and satisfying

Excitement for more to come

Mystified looks of Lords and Ladies

Rebels dancing, laughing, celebrating

An omen for the Revolution