the grey flower

Here, hold it;
and hold it close
this metal rose
that destiny chose;
be victor over tyranny.

Squeeze their blood
out their flesh.
Cut their veins
and make a mess.
Worry no more, you have been blessed
with the metal rose that destiny chose.

The golden baby
which lies within,
Use it well
to entice the men.
Then slice the men
Good bye with them.

Click-ti-click
let the wheel move.
Puncture bodies
and deepen wounds.
And when the smoke rises
let the ashes fall
and crimson flow beneath your feet.

Then dip the rose that destiny chose
and color the metal with life of red.