Die by the Sword

a primal thirst for blood
the taste of weakened flesh
wide-eyed willing to submit
drinking from the tainted cup

so sweet and pure of soul
Oh, the tragic innocence
no corruption of the heart
shall ever be without return

struck by a mirrored blade
cleanly parting on two sides
severing past and present
into just cause and effect

a dark urge for blood
monkey man out of control
the karma of bad choices
tasting bitter on the tongue

haunted by pointless regret
Oh! How Sorry, cried aloud
when the pain demands it
and sharp steel arrives at last

semi-coagulated black ooze
slowly forms a puddle in the dirt
letting consequences settle
in a final manifest