Sinners Of The Gospels ...

In the middle of the night,
Comes squeals of torture,
They couldn't care less,
As long as someone will bleed.

They tear the skin open,
With a sharp-bladed knife,
Cries to the Lord,
Whispers, compared to their pleasure screams.

They drop the body,
Lay it bleeding, dying,
Satisfied with the gift to the Devil,
They gather round, chanting to him.

"Blood will make you stronger,
Death will bring you back,
So take our sweet sacrifice;
A God-Lover."

These people slowly disperse,
Leaving the body to rot,
Singers of the Gospel?
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