The Princess Sector Poem by Hyperion Cartel

I’d chalked Sunday up
To being a bore
When some girl sashayed in
To announce civil war.
I asked after my soldiers
My bombs, nukes and guns
She said, “Surrender all weapons
And meet your army of one.
We’ll outsmart all the vultures
Those that circle around
But rolled eyes will be drawn
At twelve sharp underground.”
I was bound with pink ribbons
Like good old Mary Jane
And force-fed pills of sunlight
To benumb any pain.
But I prefer to see red
To tear crimson lacerations
To see the bloodshed flow
Into a bloodbath for the nations.
But they howl only for blue blood
Lipsticked hellhounds descend
We’ll see who’s crowed queen
When we hook up at the bitter end.