Besedila: Cenotaph. Voluptuously Minced. Revenge.

In my dreams, no my nightmares; in the sea hate with the absence of fate.
Blind eyes crying with blood, like a vomit extinguishing my flammy
repulsion. Hold the broken flask filled with a sexual organ's liquid,
boiling tender, arises hunger, reminds my temper.Then submerged fantasies
unheard come close to my mind; undoubted sophism but real necrophylism.An
ache begins inside, spreads through all veins caused by the zephyr of
damantion, yielding a substantial anger, makes me loose my will then o
visual dream appears, a pretty child is smiling to me.Being defeated in
these meanningless morbid dimensions, vaccinating blood, bestial bellow,
mouldy saw.Realization of what; the inflamation inside gets bigger with an
increasing acceleration which is a varacious manner of torture.Displeased
demands of a morbid mind are never satisfied with an unsaturated solition of
a child's cerebraliquid and his foetusfull urine.Turn the skin inside out,
lick the vein veiled with blood. Button up his torn body with a rusty
needle, vibarate the slender body, attach the penis inside the diseased
porsions then lick again not only the secretions but lemphic as well.Make it
pour, taste its sour...