This void, filled with spite,
clutched fists, a curved grin.
Bent thumbs and turned wrists,
warm from my fingerprints.
I give you civility, through gritted teeth
but little grace,
that is all.
Crucify the spirit, adagio on strings.
But let the flesh live,
on the Devils Sonata.
Let the flesh live.
A pillaged village, burnt out
burnt down.
Plundered souls with stolen hearts,
pull their flags up high.
Both will congratulate themselves
Immersed, wallowing
rich in the spoils of war
of an unsuspecting town.
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