Blood will rust. 

Blood will rust dotted cottons

with blessed spots 

on the eyes four now 

the truth that’s clawed beneath 

the trees of blood lust 

branches weighed down 

By heresy.


how will you wear that treaty 

The cuockolds holding Firm 

in the rutted fields of kilted

Comb getting stung in Demi 

Of Riddles far removed from  

Fire kiln and thirst.