The sacrificial lamb
On the altar of your manhood
Bleats not for mercy
Calmly places
Precious head on stone
Cold and yet familiar.

Descent of hefty glistening blade
Splatters blood-stained
Doubts and fears,
Drenching peasants' shirts,  
Generations
Of patriarchal reasoning.

Slightest quiver
In resolve,
(The lady's
Last refute,)
Gives pause,
A slight reflection.
But no,
The Jester
Gains his poise.
With thick dark fingers
Fate explodes,
Lest uncertainty reign the day.

Indeed,
The quintessential
Manly gesture
Castrates
The righteous perpretrator
As if the deed
Was done to Self.