| » Poem: Clamor at the carcasses |
Clamor at the carcasses
written by Genocide Reaper08:20 PM 3/12/05Tremble like the lost child.
Fumble your conscious as you lay dieing cold.
Break yourself.
In pieces you fall.
Like a maggot you crawl.
Waiting for the reaper you bawl.
Tears streaming to the ground.
Mud covered face.
How does it taste?
I want to know!
What's it like?
To feel life slipping into strife.
Strive for perfection yet none is found.
We pick and scratch our own faults.
Blame placed, look at the bunch of frauds.
Sickening sights of self indulgent and self loathing serpents.
Hear the cries of the coward!
Hear him die!
It is such a beautiful sound!
So overjoyed I feel as though I might die!
I give a happy sigh.
Without regret.
That yet another fool has faltered now to only begin the process.
Of life, and its end, now the fool rots.
As is the fools counter part, another fool, spewing forth.
Ridicule.
Hanging in a noose formed by many knots.
A slipknot to be exact.
Lovely isn't it?
The sight of death!
No, my statement I shall not retract.
It is for the better that this person no longer lives.
Quote me on that.
Its a fact.
Hear that song.
Hear it well.
its playing in the heart of a child.
Its the song of Hell.
Screaming yet, soothing demons.
Giving sanction for murder in every season.
But in truth, the ones dead which surround us today.
Had it coming anyway.
They committed suicide.
Let us clamor as we gaze upon their cold lifeless carcasses. |
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