mumblings of murkish minds,
the Holocaust, watershed of miseries endless.
Crows on carrion this mindless carnage subsists,
Ravished by blighted beings
on a tempest crest,
crushed by the heavy hand of grief,
Nature laments this wanton harvest:
Throes of chaos,
strident sound of doom
throttling the throng of reason
to mere muffled throb.
Vultures play the lyre
with fevered excitement
enthralled by the entrails of diseased minds.
Sepulchral renditions soar,
mmm... starving little pot-bellies.
Infants no better than sooty soles,
drowned in an ocean of tears
Black clouds descend the threshold of peace,
men hastened to sleep by irons of blood
as seraphic sheeps slaughtered
in a cascade of crimson-like drips.