|
I would love nothing more than to savor |
|
The sweet stench of your decomposing soma |
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Subsidized and occupied by the |
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Worms and swarms that feed on your failure |
|
Aftermath of consequence |
|
Conquered by your own regret |
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One last thing to do |
|
Before this is my accomplishment |
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I bring the end of your rule |
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With bloody requisite |
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The death of tyrants |
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At the hands of the schismatic |
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At first you plead for mercy, |
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Then you beg for death |
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Terror until this moment, |
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Despised until your last breath |
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The rage, the wrath, the terror |
|
Simply monolithic and unmeasured |
|
Inflicted with pure intensity |
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And without any sense of mercy |
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Until I was alone, knee deep in blood |
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Removed from myself, swept with the flood |
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To see you laid to rest |
|
In a grave manifest |
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With your eulogy written in your own blood |
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And this stink reeks of this vengeance |
