The scars of time
Form not a tortured soul
But the purulence
Of which the spirit holds
Vessel of sin
Holds within
Filth of this world
Putrefy, purity defied
Full of waste
Sewn inside
Enemies not forgotten
Leave our soul to rot
Your body bears disfigurement
Projections of your soul
That which your mind cannot commit
Spew the bile onto those
Subjects of your hate
The poison that pervades
The blade that does defile
The putrid smell
Ferments inside
Expel at once
Lest your body seep and die
A carcass
A figment of a man
Decrepit and old
Awaiting the final bell
Rise and feel the call of agony
Fall and fill a restless grave
Feed on countless lives eternity
Regurgitate the sickness that dwells within

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