HE CAME TO FUCKIN DIE

Antlers covered in the blood of another
Who thought they could just slaughter
In this holy place the beast and their own
Have always known to be home,
Entrails decorating sharpened bone like a crown,
Hooves trudging through the blood
That drips upon the ground,
Eager to bring back another trophy
So it could be mounted on the wall,
But now their insides are mounted
Upon a cervid’s head, the would-be killer forced to crawl…

Teeth clasp around the throat,
On the blood, the bastard chokes,
Several pairs of jaws from the pack
Dismembering while the trespasser’s on their back
Claws digging through the chest
As the fucker’s laid to rest,
Spilling guts while they eat,
Life’s liquid leaves the body and slowly depletes,
Dirt stained red,
A potential killer dead,
Jugular is leaking,
Blood junkie no longer fiending…

Beaks peck at the sockets
Of a scumbag with shells
Nestled in their pockets,
Slumped up against a trunk
With the roots growing ‘round their ankles,
Body long since having long been slumped,
Food for the little ones that nibble at the flesh,
Delighted to have food so fresh,
Flora and fauna nourished by the dripping crimson,
Having foiled another scumbag’s mission,
Branches and bark having made their incisions,
And those who don’t partake
Gaze on appreciatively, for this specimen that tried to
Walk among them was never, to them, ever great…

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CAN YOU SEE THE WORLD BURNING?

My jaws of death
Encircle your throat,
The fangs in my jaw
Here to steal your last breath; the
Only wish I have left
Is to see you croak.

Nothing personal, it’s just war,
Something you and your kin had started.

But make no mistake, I
Do not apologize for being so cold-hearted.

You came to my home,
Where I gleefully wander and roam,
And yet are surprised when I
Bare my teeth in revolt.

Would you grant me mercy
If I committed the same transgression?

Killed my family for sport and shallow trophies,
Laying lead into us like Japs
Gunning down bogeys.

Gaze into my eyes
Because now I deem you
Must be torn apart, made to die,
Feel my fucking aggression.

Point your gun,
This war’s not done,
And I won’t be another
Decoration you have won.

I’ll dig in your entrails,
Frail, pink-fleshed beast of burden,
Pulling you apart with tooth and nail.

Not your world, not your land,
It never was, and never will be.

As long as I live, the Yukon will never be yours,
You’ll just have to go ahead and fucking kill me.

LES 150 PASSIONS MEUTRIÉRES

Is this what you wanted,
Do you feel superior?

That forbidden lust of yours,
Quenched, art thou murderous
Passions? Or doth thy throbbing
Not cease to be just yet?

Sickening, spiteful bastard,
O’, how I wish to
Cleave you in two.

Butcher and skewer you in
Much the same manner as those
Trophies hanging from meat-hooks,
Probably to arouse thy fiendish
Cravings.

Insatiable, you cannot seem to
Get enough of the sensation.

“Unholy forefathers of man,
Deliver me unto temptation”,
You giddily sing.

But your ancestors are nor
Here tonight; but I am,
I’ve come; it is your
Neck I wish to wring.