Dear brother

They sent you, to that hot dusty land.
Where you must be, a peace keeping man.
Patrolling over, sharp rocks and sand.
To be killed by a cowardly, foreign hand.

I wept for weeks, both night and day.
Listening to what, the councillors say.
Wanted to fight, to make them pay.
Then realised, there's a better way.

The first few I sent, were a bit of a mess.
Tore their skin, as well as their dress.
But I've refined my art, getting better I guess.
The ones I send now, are all unharmed and fresh.

I know you so well, I know what's your type.
Very young, fresh, auburn and ripe.
Not the glamorous ones, with all that hype.
Oh yes dear brother, I know your type.

So how is it done, I meet them at night.
A drop in their drink, soon takes out the fight.
I bring them back here, and tie them down tight.
A needle in the artery, left arm not right.

I drain all their blood, down the sink here.
They wake eventually, so filled with fear.
I show them your photo, I do it with care.
Then whisper your name, it's the last thing they'll hear.

So build up a harem, build it up strong.
It's where they should be, where they belong.
I've sent you so many, beauties each one.
Can't stop now, having such fun.