The children of death have landed
silver knives in their hands
ready to **** on his demand
obeying all his commands

They start to chant, we must ****
and by his dark wishes they will
twenty six hundred of the little tikes
out to play out to **** for his delight

They move so fast most never see them coming
they are the revolution all consuming
street by street they maim and slaughter
killing brothers, sisters, sons and daughters

Watch their silver blades in their crimson hue
feel them hacking a slashing to the end of you
hear them sing their black dirge of hate
yet when you hear that, all will be too late


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris