Spill crimson and pretend it's blood.
A gruesome massacre, an assault to
The innocent unknowingly basking
In the afterglow.

Red of hurt touch the pale cheeks of death,
Like carmine velvet on marble floors,
Like rose blossoms on a tomb.
Warm hues hide the cold fury of the slaughter.

Flood, drown and forget that it
Is heaven's blood we're drinking.
And when pain is this pretty,
Why should we ever fear?