devilhawks
night falls like a guillotine
on the living tonight, hoods up
and knives out for the terrified.
ugly, broke, brokenhearted
losers hear the cry, split the belly and spill out into the night
black eyes, bloodly knuckles and broken bones
carving cryptic epitaphs into the stone
feeding on the scremaing like it's their last
night alive, peeling back the skull's flesh as the blood fills their eyes.
burn away the beautiful in fire red skies
burying the living as the devilhawk flies
moonlight's a greenlight for the devilhawk.
sidestep into switchblades
and nail your hope to a cross
locking up the children as they howl at the door
sweaty hands clutching pistols on the bathroom floor.
rusted silver cruifixes held tight in hand.
Remembering religion as you pray for an end.
face us, face death, shawllow graves.
hoods up knives out, end of days.
the sun rises on mass graves and the hawks
feel the vultures for another day.