I can see them, hear them crying and screaming in agony
as the fire eats away at them, melting away their skin,
leaving only blackened bone and the acrid stench of burnt flesh.
Do you want to see? See them bleeding into the well of eternal suffering?
I'll dance around their bodies, leaving posies in their wake, casting away the smell and watch as they turn to ash.
I will swim in their blood, delighting in the liquid rubies clinging to my flesh.
And I will watch as they die, feeling not half of what I feel inside.
