The Decapitator's Prayer

O decapitator!

(It is) not ye who slew them

When thou threwest a handful of dust

O decapitator!

Victorious with terror

In knife-edge genuflection

"Smite ye their necks."

Behold the disgusting power of the optimists heart

Where he held his fevered dreams

To the relevant drops of original blood

Know God, no peace; when the time calls forth the speakers;

(In a) Self-righteous, self-pitied, self-hatred

The servant and the compeller

The iconoclast and the architect

"They are from them, they are of them"

Are these the kind of swine we're meant to live for?

In this terminally demented pit of rats

Not worthy of the lowly trough that feeds them

Rotting in the last ditch of Eden