Tourniquet to Stop All Love

I bleed no more
For anguished autumn raining spells
For black mass turncoats
And informers on the upper blocks
I drink no more
For tarnished backhand compliments
For alkaline agnostic rememberances
I eat no more
For cut-throat angry vultures
For buried dangers in electric form
Why would I bleed at all
For blissful moments of self-destruction?
For the rhyme of the lash
Echoed in the release of the stocks?
I would bleed no more
For the parentless children of the angry nation
Set entirely on locking ourselves away from each other
I would bleed greatly again
For promises of truth to come in days of great golden hue
For green pastures of illicit failures
It is only in secret that we may fail completely
For that is the only time we will admit it