Again the fist unfolds. Fingers unfurl red Petal blossom of a rose. Scent of a broken nose, Stain shed on shaven heads. Kings with no crown nor throne Lay prone in whitewashed beds.
Thorns in their own sides, ****** in their own right. These manicured monsters Cry a challenge unto the night. Marching on through kebab dreams, Weeks 'for we speak of Halloween.