Envenomate

As the snake bites again
With fangs sharp as knives,
We look outward again
At all the empty mortal lives.

As the venom digs in deep
And our blood mixes with rage,
We think of all the jesters
That made us a fool on stage.

As the poison inks our veins
With a clarity inducing feeling,
They are without masks;
Their very layers are peeling.

As death hugs the oxygen
And the cold numbs us still.
We wonder if the villains
Know that we intend to kill?

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

Somehow, I don't think revenge will be too sweet in this case.