https://wp.me/p97tZ9-4t I seek something to believe in but as to why I do not know. continue reading
For ages it was rapture to caress The lovely breasts and waists of heaven’s maids, Now one will bear the terrible caress— The crush, the slash, and tear—of hell’s machine.
This body ends as ash, dry dust, or slime, And ultimately shit, no essence left. Consumed, evaporated, rotted down— Thus know its nature: to disintegrate.