The sport of killing
Hanging by hook and 1,000 lb. test
Predator vs. predator
To turn these waters red, the sharks go berserkThey circle the boat
We hide with machetes and knives
Ambush and cut their throats
Chopped up, chunks, cuts, frozen in buckets of bloodWith my trusty machete
I carve the parts to summon the sharks
Lurking around the jetty
In a frenzy they're circling, their incisors readyTo masticate and to munch
These things you call humans but we call it lunch
They smell it from miles away
I stand at the dock now a butchering blockSmashing, hacking, laughing, we carry a payload
Chopped torsos, heads and limbs
Ground into a mulch, frozen and chummified
Intestines, fresh organsLeft on the dock, reeking, cooked by the sun
So pungent, disturbing, vomiting induced
And mixed with the chyme, this is blood
Not ashes, no mourning, no loveSharks go berserk when the blood starts to spurt
From the stern, to the bowk, human chum is thrown out
They never thought this would be the way
They'd eventually dieShredded into bite-sized pieces a human goresicle
Knee deep in intestines, gray soupy mixture resembling chyme
Sloshing heaps mobilized by waves distributing the piles
Granulized, homocide, chummified