---

The serum of defeat

Fills her clasping nails.

Trembling underneath

Her hate prevails.

She walks down the stony hall

With skin deep on wretched blood;

Tongue of morphine and alcohol

Bulging vacant eyes, creepy hair of mud.

The knife on her hand

Finds the way of gravity

Into his flesh she decays with ecstasy.

Golden smile: it ́s her last stand.

Into his chest she carves her hate

She ́s the mother of dirt (and) sister of rape,

For his final breath she cannot wait.

Every organ is there to reshape

Into vengence of thought

And verily I tell you: she ́s the dream he sought.

As his stare fades away

Her hands tremble in joy.

Tiresome but not in dismay

Below this mighty Helen of Troy.

He now tries to crawl

Into a final resting place

The woman-beast sends out a bawl

Pouring desire over his face.

And though he wanted to fall

By a stranger ́s hand, not his own,

Her wicked heart was a stonewall,

An evil that from him had grown.

She did scream and moan.

Above his flesh, a meaty throne;

A body despitefully thrown,

Kept barely alive by her will and methadone.

Still he lingers on a corner:

An eternal limbo of viciousness

By herself she ́s killer and mourner

For without him lies emptiness.

She curses death and the pleasure it gave.

She is fading away into decay;

Her creator she could not save;

There ́s nothing to weep for and nothing to say.