Blood everywhere and we all feel alright.
Maybe dizzy, probably high.
We’re dancing. We’re dancing into the Light. And we’ll keep
dancing on through these dark new days in our shoes of whore-skin leather.
We’ll wave our garish crosses built of infant bones and barbed wire, and the
village will stomp along. We’ll have us a witch hunt, boys. Burn her up to
cinders, piss on them ashes, and take her land deeds. We’ll build there on our
rewarded property, and the Light will glow from the temple her sacrifice has
wrought. We'll sacrifice the heathens then, use their blood to grease the gears in our new machine. We’ll be dancing in the Light, tracking bloody footprints through our
shiny new temple, content in these dark new days.
Maybe dizzy, probably high.
Blood everywhere and we feel alright.
You can find more of my work here. Thank you for reading.
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