Vitriol A Gentle Gift
That is where you will find the light of your end:
In its thunder
Hell's belly knocking with leashed hungers -
I will pluck from them every tether
To end your life
Would be the most heinous compassion
To loosen my teeth from your neck
You will suffer here beneath me
For there is no loneliness in oblivion that could burn like the pain I have made in you
You will find permission to a hollow mercy only then
When the failing bones of equity
Splinter beneath the irresistible pressure of ambition, and a brokenhearted sun
Heaves itself upon the littered shore
The cruelty shown there
... Beyond God's imagination and moderating bounds
It is the weakest pardon, and you have done nothing to deserve the tender liberty of death
The gentle gift of death
You will suffer here beneath me
For there is no loneliness in oblivion that could burn like the pain I have made in you
I will feed you by spoon the blood-drunk sand
You will find your end there, in the f..cking taste
