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Flesh Oracle

de Thy Art Is Murder

Incisions made, tearing flesh, ripping organs, strung up to bleed, gravity showers you in your own filth
Still squirming, eyes open as I gaze at my masterpiece, these gaping wounds tell a story
Your life is worth nothing
You're a worthless cunt, believing if you have a choice to live or die
As I nail your torso to the floor, they pierce vital organs
What do you have left to offer?
Eyes rolling back, bloodshot eyes, bleeding from all orifices, bloodmarking time like an hour glass, you cannot scream with your mouth sewn shut
Violently hacking into your throat, I finish decapitation, another lifeless carcass left to rot
I've conquered man
I am the birth
I am death
Upon the table lies a corpse, a chunk of rotting flesh, a work of art, a perfect kill
I'm basking in the stench
I'll keep your ears as fucking trophies, hanging round my neck
To hear the sounds of screams echo till the very end, I am the death creator
I am the fucking end

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