Humans
Their skulls hold brains,
their arms hold veins,
and their blood is sweet when it rains.
They run in fear
when we walk near
and cower as they hear
our victims screams
flowing forth in vocal streams
as our blood lust teams.
They die slow,
one by one they go
and join our fabulas show.
The children crying
and their mothers lay dying
and the fathers are lying
as they promise safety,
but they are crafty
and the words satisfy
the childs need
and the fathers greed
and soon we feed.
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