The sweet aroma of burning flesh pours forth from the crematorium
Arouses the minds of the perverts that malinger outside its walls
The ones that chant in unison
That echo in the dust
Burn, burn, burn!
For the euphoria you may or may not experience in the afterlife will not complete your concept of bliss or damnation until the physical violence you have since harbored for me has been executed.
Burn!
Burn!
Burn the adulterer!
Burnim!
Tell me, you now merely abstract concept, explain how I have wronged you, just because I get my highs off the destruction of your existence, of any man’s existence? Because you’re a by product of terrestrial matter, a carbon based life form. Feel in the fact that the gradual deterioration of your form continues the pleasure that you yourself once brought to mankind.
