Sculpting The Clairvoyant Shrine Of Your Disease (Split With Wretched Funeral) Poem by grim blackhart

Hear the rumbles of millions crying in despair
It doesn’t disappear. The disease is spreading among the deceased
You walk among them with a eccedentesiast smile
Smells of your vile taste burn the skin, all this sin
I watch in satisfaction as you rot in your own fake pride
Screaming with frustration at your intolerable wasted breathing
As your kingdom crumbles down in a blaze of failure
Death is sculpting the shrine of your incompetence, you are now
The king of all disgusting human maggots. Look at this mess
It is all a disastrous infection of your own creation
Your savior spits on your face and cruelly laughs as he watches
You drag the entire world down into the burning ashes of misery