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