i stare down your blood coated throat glancing back into what was daylight.
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it shines on your dismembered body as vengeance drips from my hand.
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paint your walls with dead flesh.
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watch it rot. let it stain.
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a whore to your project, they suffer in shackles of human exploitation.
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chain of blood see it sleep.
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rusty knife to apparatus.
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sweat glazed palms.
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eyes glisten with fear.
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bleed these scars you bear and let me piss on your open wounds.
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slip struggle to your feet.
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choke on the wretched stench of a whorehouse and let the innocent cry.
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no more excuses now its your time to die.
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|
-----------------
|
Of Pain
|
| Eighteen Visions |
