Torturing the Deceased - Aggression

Death is certain, life is not

Rising from their coffin to tell their tales

Premature burial, slowly we rot

With a tube to provide a fresh supply of air

Lid is locked, trap in a tomb

Gently sleeping in my burial shroud

Dissected, while still alive

Blood gushed in abundance

From the first incision round

I see the dead, I see the dead

Because I’m one of them

Living my death

Torturing the deceased

A painful afterlife

Torturing the deceased

A psychic genocide

Torturing the deceased

Death on two legs

Hang the witch for infanticide

Anne Greene awoke

And she opened her eyes

She was dangling at the end of her noose

A living departed attending her own demise

Extreme measures, extreme responses

Sharp instruments and fire to sacrify

Imagination and creativity

Finding pleasure in torturing bodies

I see the dead, I see the dead

Because I’m one of them

Living my death

Torturing the deceased

A painful afterlife

Torturing the deceased

A psychic genocide

Torturing the deceased

Death on two legs