Mercy! Mercy!
A semblance of grace must be shown.

As blade be drawn and smile emerge
The flick of wrist is seen
The die were cast many decades ago
The instinct was grown in earliest year

Encroach not near, my flesh in fear
Waves are raised and follicles stiff
But metal meet flesh
In swift angled motion
No sound but the intake of breath

New orifice created!
Merlot does it spit!
Vendor bent double in pain

Clean up the puddle
Someone may slip
The mingle of wines is uncouth
Repulsive and wicked