Of Pain

I stare down your blood coated throat glancing back into what was daylight
It shines on your dismembered body as vengeance drips from my hand
Paint your walls with dead flesh
Watch it rot. let it stain
A whore to your project, they suffer in shackles of human exploitation
Chain of blood see it sleep
Rusty knife to apparatus
Sweat glazed palms
Eyes glisten with fear
Bleed these scars you bear and let me piss on your open wounds
Slip struggle to your feet
Choke on the wretched stench of a whorehouse and let the innocent cry
No more excuses now its your time to die