A new age Dr. Lector
With a bloodthirsty rage
Impales a red robed body
Of a tender ripened age
With blade in hand he takes a life
One that's now unfulfilled
A recipe that takes its course
And leaves another killed
Four corpses now lay slaughtered
On a board atop his table
Blood oozes like a pulp
From a freshly gutted navel
Flesh acquaints with cold steel
As he slices and he dices
Holocaust drenched in rich oil
Enhanced by savoury herbs and spices
Carnage in the air
Spatter on the wall
Eyes that show no fear
Drops trickle down and fall
Dark elixir from Modena
Is his culminate addition
Sweet smile of acquiescence
As he savours his rendition
Overlooking his art
Head drenched red
Sinisterly salivates
Waiting to be fed
[Death Of A Tomato]
© José V. Guerra Awe
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