I watched them slay the cherub in my hands

I watched them slay the cherub in my hands.

One, two, three and forty!

His blood trickled down the sickle to the ground.

The cacophony of sounds wailed and shed fear to the land

The little cherub whom everybody adored;

Now motionless in my hands.

They all shouted ,

Purge! Purge! Purge!

But with such a disconcerting predilection for fear,

There in the crowd of bones and stones;

I watched the scene of bloodbath

Nude, undisguised—exceptional

And in my hands before my  eyes

I watched them slay him and him being slain. 

Purge! Purge! Purge!