untitled death poem by organized chaos punc as the blood pours out the holes that i have carved in you you plead for God s mercy but all i hear is a cry for more i slash without reason digging deep inside of you do i really need a weapon to slice your inner soul my vision grows clouded with the rage of generations passed the blood it blocks my sight and still i lash out is it really you whom i m devouring or is it just a dream i will know if i awake at home and in my bed i have not woken and that must mean that you are DEAD