The Whores of War


The whores of war parade their industry
jargon freeflow all told and nothing said
The loudspeakers scream incantations for the whores of war
the stockpiles grow
and the people dwindle
the whores of war sit on islands
surrounded by seas of blood
the blood doesnt touch the whores of war
and they bathe in spit
dead children
horrific things are what sets up the whores of war
gets their dicks hard
They strip down to the veign and imbibe the beast
scrape down to the bare sod
and rub the dirt into their filthy toxic flesh
The whores of war parade in breakfast nooks of foreign hotels
and fuck the underage staff in the ass for petty change
the whores of war draw back the curtains in to the blinding sun
of starving deserts carcasses picked pristine by the sun
they pull back the curtains on a sunset of nuclear orange light

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