Yattering

Pleasure

Try to comprehend me

Before you tear the aorta

Stab with a knife...

...Once again

Cut throat does not compare

To the pleasure of raping a child

Following her,

I leered at her tiny boy

Watched her delicate moves

And that strange freshness

Now, shes just a dead,

Ripped corpse

...In the cut throat

I find my pleasure

Raping the child

You hatefully murder,

Then desecrate

My body

You should have

Done it before...

...Before you thought

Of revenge

I was molested

It doesnt matter now

Now its blood

Now its sperm

Cut throat,

Pleasure




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