07-21-2012, 09:14 AM
Old poem, fancy giving it a new lease on life.
I accidently deleted v.1, I will add again in a bit!
-------
v.2
We are what we eat.
Remains of beasts,
leaving stains on heart and cloth.
Cooked to perfection, our guilt is scoured
with washed red hands, suffering is seared,
cruelty bathed in wines, roasted with herbs.
The aroma of abattoirs is smothered
with sauces, cries are stifled with spices,
moans choked with crusts.
We soon forget the nature,
there was no life,
only the dream of breath.
Exhausted, the torment is tender,
the forsaken flavours of flesh
entice each man,
death digests,
drips down from lips,
shame pushed aside for pleasure,
cut to the bone.
I accidently deleted v.1, I will add again in a bit!
-------
v.2
We are what we eat.
Remains of beasts,
leaving stains on heart and cloth.
Cooked to perfection, our guilt is scoured
with washed red hands, suffering is seared,
cruelty bathed in wines, roasted with herbs.
The aroma of abattoirs is smothered
with sauces, cries are stifled with spices,
moans choked with crusts.
We soon forget the nature,
there was no life,
only the dream of breath.
Exhausted, the torment is tender,
the forsaken flavours of flesh
entice each man,
death digests,
drips down from lips,
shame pushed aside for pleasure,
cut to the bone.