Lick my lips, saliva strokes
as sweet aromas kiss my hunger.
Savour the pale and succulent skin
stalking my plate of death.
I can feast on flesh without guilt
my hands are clean of blood
for me its abattoir screams are silent.
We are so civilised
the barbaric hunt rests with past lives
to ease our conscience we kill in shadows.
Standing over the food chain
to force genocide on all creation below
as the superior parasite leeching life
for our grand final feast.
Strip naked the carcasses in a banquet
of carnage, beaks stab down upon the defenceless.
We exist in constant consumption,
our only pleasure is the opiate of decay.
Born of the beautiful corpse of Christ
we dine in the arms of death scavenging
the mortuaries, revealing our shadows as vultures.