Burnt after the Bullet House and Mauled (Postmortem)【POETRY】

Burnt after the Bullet House and Mauled (Postmortem)

Staring blankly at the plate,
I and my trident cannot wait.
We’re eating a genocide on every date.

Therein my dentin crushers lies your fate,
But to you I do not feel malice nor hate.
I'm only staring blankly at the plate.

But what if I lose my will to stay?
There has to be another way. I mean
We’re eating genocide every day!

Oh God, this is delicious.. What was his weight?
The pig probably couldn’t stand, and it’s nothing innate.
In horror I stare blankly at the plate.

We bred and tortured you in your cage,
Yet have chemists and foodies to make this change. So really,
Why are we still eating genocide, these days?

Ignorance is bliss till you learn of its sins:
Eating the world to pieces with blood-soaked grins.
Gourmands of the universe. That’s us, isn’t it just human?
I can’t just sit here, this meat on my plate!
My own genocide just tastes of paint-tainted hate.