At The Altar

At the altar of love, She offers herself. He drops an axe, Over her head.


The drop came – Without a blink. Did he even Stop to think?


A shock to the body A gap on the skin A gush of blood The slit bursting at its rim


The axe moves in deeper, Not yet done with the body’s keeper.


And as he chopped he sang, Hymns of a love so great – That even the pieces of flesh that fell, Clapped with thunder when they hit the plate.

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Her eyes are still open Her head is hung low Blood trickles along her eyebrow While her eyes adjust to the blow. His arms rise again, Towards the speechless sky. Plunging ahead with the axe, He gives

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