The children laugh as they hack away,
The puppies’ throats opening, blood-red,
Pouring thick, wet onto cold, gray concrete.
Little screams and yelps mingle twisted
Against air aglow with after-fog’s clarity,
The Day’s sky smiling gold on echoes of Death.
There is no heart in heart-less souls ripped
Frying from burnt-out bodies beaten with forgotten ideals.
Will there be forgiveness or is such a thought
Just a thought conned from the minds of idols
Built with hands hopeless with a hope that will never exist?
One last crash of metallic flash, glinting steel
Shining beneath a crimson bed of dander,
And the children saunter off, teary-eyed,
A last drying drop suddenly glistening
With the heartening sight of another kennel just ahead.
