Victor Carlos

Now Do It! !

Your sweating hands
just rend my skin,
which covers my wounded soul.
Now, embalm me
with your lust and loathing for me.
That is what you have
in your nauseous mind.
Drag me through
the thorns of black roses.
Look at my suffering,
which raises your rotten ego.
Your tears are like acid,
which burns my weak bowels.
Once for all, destroy me
to be a futile remain
in your desires for glory.
And then, burry me next to
your lovers`gravestones.