Pendragon
12-26-2007, 12:46 PM
Sangre
Is it the bright flash of the color blood gives splashed from the victim to the wall?
That final glazed look in an innocent eye, the looking around for one more?
I have always wondered why we glorify death, more and more movies to the cause,
Of some back alley terror with hate in his heart, and who knows how many dead after all?
They gleefully take us through the terrors of the Chicago Castle of H.H. Holmes.
They shock us with Psycho, based on a true and rather nasty tale of human degradation.
Then here comes Sweeney Todd, The Demon Barber, meat pies and piles of bones.
And count how many Bonnie and Clyde take out before they themselves are blown to devastation.
And Jack, the Eternal Ripper, his bloody crimes become almost a national salute,
With arguments still going about the number of victims, who he was, a pattern of death.
Movies still try to answer the blood stained question, but no one knows the truth.
At evening in the twilight, they take you on a Haunted Tour of Bloody Jack.
And when they cannot find a real one to quench the public thirst for more blood:
They think: Jason! Yes. Freddy! Good, good. Michael! Marvelous. And make one up!
Pendragon
©12/26/07
Is it the bright flash of the color blood gives splashed from the victim to the wall?
That final glazed look in an innocent eye, the looking around for one more?
I have always wondered why we glorify death, more and more movies to the cause,
Of some back alley terror with hate in his heart, and who knows how many dead after all?
They gleefully take us through the terrors of the Chicago Castle of H.H. Holmes.
They shock us with Psycho, based on a true and rather nasty tale of human degradation.
Then here comes Sweeney Todd, The Demon Barber, meat pies and piles of bones.
And count how many Bonnie and Clyde take out before they themselves are blown to devastation.
And Jack, the Eternal Ripper, his bloody crimes become almost a national salute,
With arguments still going about the number of victims, who he was, a pattern of death.
Movies still try to answer the blood stained question, but no one knows the truth.
At evening in the twilight, they take you on a Haunted Tour of Bloody Jack.
And when they cannot find a real one to quench the public thirst for more blood:
They think: Jason! Yes. Freddy! Good, good. Michael! Marvelous. And make one up!
Pendragon
©12/26/07