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“Thou Shalt Kill by Stewart Stafford Today, an official declaration: "The past's forbidden soil is virgin; The present, a thunderous chariot, To glory's gold destiny awaiting us. Go forth and offer up sacrifices!" But the blood we spilt was red, Whichever body it spurted from. Pleas for help, fused into one. Witnesses to death grew jaded. We made the living into the dead, Forged museums of crowded streets, In executioners' hoods at limp dawn. Arising afresh to our deliverance. © Stewart Stafford, 2024. All rights reserved.” — Stewart Stafford
Thou Shalt Kill by Stewart Stafford
Today, an official declaration:
"The past's forbidden soil is virgin;
The present, a thunderous chariot,
To glory's gold destiny awaiting us.
Go forth and offer up sacrifices!"
But the blood we spilt was red,
Whichever body it spurted from.
Pleas for help, fused into one.
Witnesses to death grew jaded.
We made the living into the dead,
Forged museums of crowded streets,
In executioners' hoods at limp dawn.
Arising afresh to our deliverance.
© Stewart Stafford, 2024. All rights reserved.