Final Trumpettes

On the eve of his destruction he calls you to his table he
Remains proud and defiant full of the strength you
Suckled like an angry lamb kicking at air and empty dirt

His face is bright and still full of the promise though
Everyone can hear the demons in the jungle having
Finally caught his scent and now drooling over the hunt

As if the day was his as if his hands did not tremble he
Insists everyone lift their glass to glory and nobody
Looks down they know their drinks are red like blood

Like Kool-Aid

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *