Canonized in Blood

I cut a man's hand off and, when he did not cry out,
poured sulfur into the wound for good measure.
His lip trembled like that of a child,
but I am impatient and wanted him to relent.
So I put out his eyes with an iron, sooting them out
and spitting into his face to humiliate him.
Then I said to him, commandingly, this is you, old man, a blind and a cripple.
Your heresy has rotted your tongue, I said.
You're dead, I said, and I am the devil. I want my dues.
But he just sat there, sloshing around in himself and reeking of flowers.