Crown in Red

Amongst this den, a din of voices
Equal in their resplendent iniquity (Soup of botulism)

Clothed in the trappings
Of their myriad debauchery (Stale and foul)

Fawning over
Baubles of gold
Inelegant ornaments
Draped over fineries
A perspiring stench
Crudely caste, vainglorious

Plagues have taken
Residence in
Fecund skins (Pale as milk)
Welts of putrid puss painted with
Fat liquor and chalk

Applied as medicine
They droop from balconies
And collapsing thoroughfares
Of ruined structures

Raise me
Raise me
Raise me

Raise thy fingers
Lace like filaments
Intravenous
Tesh bore within

Trotted out before their seat
The pungent regal sneer
All manner of feigned disgust
Usher us onward with scorn
Worn and vulnerable
Served a finite purpose
In the cratered depths
Destined for the bite
Of another whip

Surrender, surrender,
No hope of pardon in sight
If we tender, we tender
Resign ourselves to this life
So we remember, remember
The reverie of an absent home

Beg not for forgiving
Pray not for emancipation
No longer hope for revenge
Yet for the longing alone

Surrender, surrender
Surrender, surrender

Surrender, surrender
No surrender in sight
Chains that are leaden
Dig into heels
And have riven me to smithereens

No surrender, surrender
No surrender in sight

No surrender, surrender
No surrender in sight
The blood is emollient
Shackles have loosened
The slightest chance of release

Surrender surrender
No surrender in sight

Surrender, surrender
No surrender in sight
We tear away the stays
And flee from their eyes
Into crowds of the terrified

No surrender, surrender
No surrender in sight
At once we are lost
In the audience drawn
To our pathetic demise

Salacious they pour
Over one another
Onwards to the outer reaches
Yelp and hiss with strangled laughter

Insubordinate hands
The sons and daughters
Stripped of their personhood
Running for their lives

The city clung to the edge
Of a precipice below
A wide and billowed expanse
A dreadful comprehension
Unravelled in welling eyes

Amidst the pleats of dust
A vast army red in tooth and claw
On steeples, hilts, and obelisks
Traction engines hauled

By compatriots of the irons
Drag the terrible machines
The banners cast in cardinal
Bathed in the blood of their foe

Dragging it north!
Dragging it north!