As this days sun grows coral,
The sacrifice is brought up,
To the apex of this temple,
Our golden pyramid,
This one shall suffice,

The sacred hymns are recited,
Drawing the scrutiny of the gods,
My obsidian blade is held in thirsty readiness,
The time is upon us,
Two small eyes grimace up,

‘Tetatzin…?’

The blade falls,
The vessel is pierced,
The pantheons wine is spilled,
Painting the glimmer of this place,
My people ring out in hysteria,

We become phrenetic in holy awe,
Aloft a warm youthful heart is held,
Hesitating to still beat,
Huitzilopochtli drink deep,
And be praised by this act.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s