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Putrid sadism doth pulse through yer veins, wretched wickedness doth flow through yer heart.
I crouch and I watch, I stand and I squirm;
I run and I clutch, I jump and strike firm.
Crushing through the head of foul tainted charisma, bold yet unseen;
Crusading through the mouth of many a false word, existence contradicts the fiend.
I fixate on the eyes, evil gems fade till death consumes;
With one foul force down, the conniving ****'s gone, vengeance looms.
You now burn and you scream, the pain encapsulates my feel;
I feel profound and fulfilled, lit is the cigarette after my meal.
See you in hell I ironically thought;
For today I am the devil, and justice is bought.
A blasphemous ******* as the dwelling beast salivates in its hollow. The glaring screen in the darkness is its only light. Years upon years it has followed the same sick fantasies. Self loathing and sickening it has reached the paramount of the low. Trawling the deep dark corners of the web to find his fix. Like a ****** addict it has delusions of needing his fraudulent fetish. A tiny drop of drewl collides with the derelict ground. It flows onto the pile of stale hardened tissues used to dispose of the beasts ****** off spray. A trundle to the local park to put a spring in its step. Watching the adolescents thinking corrupt thoughts. Child bearers stab the beast with scared stares of disgust. Attention is being drawn towards the hairy obese miscreant. Ripped shorts to expose the genitalia of the malevolent monster. A father approaches, intentions of confrontation are obvious. The monstrous **** runs to the road, unaware of the approaching speeding bus. It is drawn under the wheel crushed with the weight. Blood spurts in every direction, like a hot needle to a balloon full of acid. Slowly he dies in agony and suffering. The evil **** got his penance. ***** for eternity in the dark depths of hell.

The devil reserves the darkest places for the darkest men. His penance came, as will yours.

By Joseph Burns
Rapturous and overjoyed with the prospect of bridging innocence into essence. Preparations and organisations as the raw love and affection fill your aura. Guiltlessness chastity swells and animates inside the womb. A blank page ready to embark on life, never before experienced the sensations that should follow. The words don’t reach the blissful state of mind at first. Realising the reality of the dreadful situation collapsing into an abyss of hate. The once shinning beacon of life and innocence lost into inanimacy. Still birth is no option; stress and depression are ripping the edges of the soul. Crumbling like stale bread, horrid and sadistic thoughts begin to bloom like mould. The structure of everything positive begins to decompose like the departed carcass inside. Rid of the tiny dead beast that has caused such pain. The hatred begins to mingle with the guilt and the shame. The specialists give negative reactions towards the longing for detachment.  Bad they say, recovery is essential now, detachment is the later. As you arrive into the kitchen, the harsh taste of alcohol lingers in your worthless mouth. Neither God, nor the devil will grant forgiveness for what happened next. The half shattered bottle of poisonous alcohol embedded in the belly. The tiny lifeless carcass still not quite developed lay peacefully on the ground. Broken but departed the doctors were right.  Twisting the bloodied bottle to the jugular the eyes close. From love to death the pattern will follow.  The mercy of above is non-existent.

The heart stops. Life ceases.


By Joseph Burns

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