Lamb & Mutton


Tongues dance freely across pink raped fields

Hands grasp & caress the fountains of flesh

Men abuse, rape, and plunder the hordes –

Of innocence playing gaily in the pools

Of virtue.

Women squandered and spent, left out

In open heat, admired as precious

Roses & jewels.

Those that survived barely able to stand

Creaking, moaning, and rotting

With skin aged like leather.

The fountains of flesh

Are renewed

The pink raped fields

Wash away with their blood

Born again under new moon

And the men come again

Ready to finger, lick, and take


Whatever they wish   …

Diving and driving fresh

Innocence mad

Drooling over virtue

& hope.

Ruining what they sought.


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