Your gaze you fixed upon the stainless blade,
Unsheathed and raised, reflecting back the eye
Which locks itself in this impassive buy
With whispers telling how the ransom’s paid.
Confusing how the bloodshot in the glade
Mock offerings with flame but coldly lie
On altar acceptably bound to die
Like the frigid pure the Egyptians slayed
To bless the flood when cows and crops went dry,
And feed the god the gore to satisfy
The starving sense it lived to bring this aid.
You discern the image the gleam has made
As a sphere flushed in vein of rushed reply
That sleepless eye will sacrifice for trade.