Indignities To The Dead

Plumbing the depths of the now vacant carcass

Degenerative processes now completed

Feeling through a miry, putrid pulp

Of organs which necrosis has thoroughly depleted

Delving into the nether regions of necrology

I have disturbed and dismantled their graves

Collecting the putrefacted, liquefied remains

Into jars I have jealously saved

The crumbling human waste that passes for a corpse

Is now a fetid pastime, in which I occasionally indulge

The embalming of rancid mortal sludge collect

A hobby not often divulged

Perversely pursuing pathological profundity

But in the end I remain without comprehension

I find myself searching in an overturned crypt

Much to the tenants' ghastly apprehension

But in that muddy sepulchre of rot and decrepitude

I find a brief solace from my woes and trepidation

With my hands caked with gore and face streaked with rotten grume

I come into a moment of vital realization

In that beautiful moment of essential oneness

I ejaculate on the face of the stiff

I lose myself in the quagmire of rotten flesh

Inhaling the pungent rancid whiff

Amongst festering putrefaction and moldy tissue and bone

At last I find my release

Vomiting on the genitals of the severely dead and gone

I sully and deride the deceased

To relive the orgasmic sensation I crave

Time and time again I find myself led

To charnel houses and desecrated graves

To perform indignities to the dead