A DAILY MASSACRE
The Tormentor smoldered with vain Pride,
As beautiful stars did Bleed.
A blood-spilt Blue; his Gory Glory Grew.
Sans mercy, Sans pity, Sans a feel,
Ravage the lovely Bright Night Lady,as her, he'd kill.
Joy oh joy!
His Crown he Donned with Joy!
Worshipped is he; Lamp of Every Nook,
Heedless,all hypocrites, of the massacre every morn he'd cook.