Ritual Murder

A bit of prose about destructive behavior.

Twenty soldiers at attention
Impulse forces their surrender
Once selected, start ascension
Uniformly straight and slender

Victim smiles at the offender
Abrasive wheel upon the skin
Both enjoy a moment’s splendor
Before a knowing fateful grin

Persistent replays of the sin
The Soldier glows in your embrace
Following his deadly brethren
To cloak you in fog of disgrace

The Reaper beams upon your face
In truth, both transform, both consume
One soiled, dirty, crushed in place
The other hides malignant bloom