The flesh of your words are gangrene
Sloughing at the tips
Their inflection an infection
Necrosis apocalypse
Swelling reds and gorging purples
Lack of bloods life flow
Putrid rotting letters
Thrombosis runs the show
Losing membrane integrity
Their fetid smell does waft
Forced fed through the senses
Until we subjugate
I can tell by the smell
Under the perfume
The only thing that they will do
Is lure us to our tombs
So keep your words and parlor tricks
I see them clear as day
Countless ways to contaminate
And weaken all your prey
It's time to tie the tourniquets
At the shoulders and the thighs
The time is now to amputate
This toxicology of lies