Jackals tore the skin from the eyeless carcass.
In between breakfasts I am an absolute beast.
Moonlight whispers, tells me to hurt again.
My Mistress Luna, I answer. Of course I will.
You are my favorite night soldier, she sings.
Down in the slaughterhouse the animals scream,
Each morning ripe with spilled guts and grease.
After the afterglow, face stuffed with bacon,
Nothing can stop midnight's voice in my ear.
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