Insane?
You whip yourself,
With a lash made of hair,
Again, and again,
Till you bleed.
You’re not insane.
You take a blade,
And move towards a newborn child,
You scar him, a mark of manhood,
Before he can even speak.
You’re not insane.
You shave your head,
And tie a long, silky thread around yourself,
You’re still a young boy,
But so what?
You’re not insane.
You eat flesh,
Man flesh.
And yes, you like some blood too,
Judge you, shall I?
You’re not insane.
You promise to keep your vow,
Even under pain of death,
Your solemn oath was taken before a crimson-filled skull,
A caput mortis.
You’re not insane.
You burn things,
And watch the flames reach the sky,
You dance in front of your Goddess,
A trident-wielding, death-dealing Goddess.
You’re not insane.
You drag people up a slope,
And leave them there to rot,
But the birds, the waiting, hungry birds,
Will not let them decay in peace.
You’re not insane.
I murder people,
And made masks out of their faces,
Take a good look at yourself,
Can you really call ME insane?
