The dead flesh of life

To eat the dead flesh of a living being
Is to revert ones soul to the bleeding rush of time
The dead flesh trade is killing for the sake of it
And from the devilish pit each day they climb
Eating dead flesh for some is a pleasure
Those not at the death and to beyond
Those not picking maggots off those corpses
Or washing them with salt of which they are fond

Ripping out their hair the vile disclosure
The super market counters stainless steel
You cannot see the killing floor
Just imagine the blood and gore
The murdering of species is for real

Pristine cuts of alien wrapped dead flesh
Pink lights give the cosmetic desire
Place a lump of dead cows rump into a crusty bun
And shove it quickly in the raging fire

The scorching smell is masked by herbs and gravy
Mixed with blood and mucus baked then stirred
To cut the throat of a female for one’s dinner
Is to realise the passion of each word

To live life as a vegan is the sensitives approach
To eat the vegetation and exclaim
That no soul dies to feed me all live their own short lives
And that no one because of me need take the blame