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Ripped from the mother's cunt, writing mess

Robbed prematurely-ghastly sight

Of a mothers suffering

Slowly dying on the table

Pre-natal torture, mangles the young child

Tearing him apart

Entwining him with pieces

Of the others you have killed

A grisly picture painted

With the blood of the unborn

Sexual organs torn

A fetish to satisfy

You get such a twisted pleasure

Out of watching children die

Morbid art consumed

For all of man to see

Such a striking tribute to your insanity

Lust for children's blood, a sickness with no cure

A crime easily forgiven within the bowels of your mind

In your mind's eye, tell me what you see

Do you celebrate within misery

Inside our minds lurks the demos

Who infects our dreams

Reality washes into fantasy with a silent scream

Head is pounding

Morals are weakened, your brain has turned to waste

Waiting for some more fresh blood to satisfy your taste

Butchering, raping, stabbing, scraping