Capering around waving
my cravings like a flag.
I hate him and adore him.
Cursing his existence and begging for more
I wonder if I could kill him.
Crime of passion.
Slice off his face like rubber cement from the table.
Cut out his cruel heart and squash it.
Slit his gizzard and dance in the entrails.
Cut his throat.
In cold blood Is no problem.
My blood is never warm.
Humanity wails and whines,
to end something that cannot help itself.
The Lord of Temptation lies dead on the floor
I couldn’t help myself
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Crash Palace Productions – Fear Is In The Mind