Bloody Banquet

In the cold table a deep cut.
Gush the blood, Red vision of death.
Hands opening the chest, blows break the sternum, catch a cry.
Ribs pulled out.
And the black mind feeling all that rottenness.
Fibbers and muscles broken, washed by a vomit.
In the cold table one more death.
Hacking his skull the blood spills, pulling out the skin to get the eye balls.
The gore takes the place. Tools stabbing the brain.
The bloody ritual has begun.
And the black mind feeling all that rottenness.
Fibbers and muscles broken, washed by a vomit.
Suffocating pain with terror.
The empty mind now is full but the corpse isn't ready: His carcass is cremated, viscera to soup.
Organs to the banquet, brains to dessert.
In this bloody banquet eyes as adornment.
Drinking the blood in the vein no longer, hopping one more beat from the dead heart.
Organs to the banquet, brains to dessert, eyes as adornment.
Drinking the blood.



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