Axes, Hatchets, and Cleavers
The axe cleaved, death riding in its wake
The axe made a red ruin of his chest
The axe chopped down with savage fury
The deadly axe crunched home
The big blade buried itself in his skull
The axe's silver head sang, severing life from limb
A man's weapon, the weight of the axe felt good in his hand
His head burst like a ripe melon beneath the killer's axe
Axe clutched firmly in hand, he set off into the night
The fire axe hung loosely in his hand, a grim reminder of death
Her hands hefted the heavy axe with a sureness her mind did not share
The heavy axe chopped their struggling limbs like kindling
The axe became stuck in the wound and would not pull free
The hungry axe feasted on brain and bone
With one swing of the axe, their nightmare began
The heavy chop brutalized his foe, driving him back
The axe laid his ribcage open, exposing meat and bone
He shook the dripping gristle from the head of the axe
The vicious swing chunked into his chest, bursting organs
A weapon of war, the battleaxe was born to cleave flesh from bone
The only closure for him came at the end of an axe
With one mighty blow, he brought the axe home
The deadly axe screamed down, sending up a shower of blood
He shook the axe to dislodge sticky clumps of brain and bone
The axe chopped his neck as easily as cordwood
The axe's razored edge cried out for blood
The honed edge tore through her clothes to find the flesh beneath
The axe split her pregnant belly open in a shower of gore
The relentless axe chopped again and again
With a sickening crunch, he wrenched the axe free from the wound
The two men fought over the axe, each grabbing hold of the handle
The axe fell from nerveless fingers as the killer collapsed
He growled and raised his axe to the bruised and purpling sky
The heavy axe embedded itself in the wall
The axe crashed into the door, splintering wood
He bashed in her skull with the broken axe handle and called it a day
He hurled the axe, desperate to strike
The honed hatchet flew from his fist
The hurled hatchet bit through bone, crushing ribs
A hatchet in each hand, he looked ready for war
He pulled a razor-sharp hand axe from his belt clip
The spinning tomahawk came straight for him
The throwing axe came, cold steel tumbling end over end
A calling card of death, the throwing axe delivered itself into his chest
Meat cleaver raised high, the killer charged
The cleaver chopped through his chest
The cleaver broke through bone
The dripping cleaver danced from limb to limb, singing its mad chorus
The butcher's blade bit into the meat of his neck
The cleaver began its grisly work, butchering them like hogs
The cleaver chopped the screaming children to pieces
The flashing cleaver thudded into him
The cold steel cleaver crashed into her face and hung there
No butcher ever wielded a blade like that
The hungry cleaver chomped on his neck
The dripping cleaver spattered the slaughterhouse floor
He shook the savage cleaver and a red rain fell from it
He swung the meat cleaver in a vicious chopping motion
The bloody cleaver slashed and chopped
Where the butcher's blade fell, only spurting stumps remained
The cleaver-crushed skull spilled brains like a grisly piñata
The butcher's arm grew tired and the bloody cleaver dropped to his side
The murderous cleaver clattered to the kitchen floor
The madman's cleaver hacked him to pieces