continuously running
like a faucet,
drip and drop
Overflowing contempt
for this place
these people
all the world I see before me
causes this furnace
to burn so hot
I want to rain fire
blood rivers running
thru torn up streets
I want the touch
the taste
the feel of fear
smell it in the air
as the inferior ants
run scattered, scared
I am death
come to life
I could be a god
of the old fashion
punishment is
Perfection
kneel before me
you shall perish
fitingly
on your knees
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