Woorden: Broken Hope. The Bowels Of Repugnance. The Dead Half.

My soul is split, half of it taken,
Perhaps my blasphemy left me this forsaken,
Put in this manner, filled me with dread
Half of me rots because I am half dead

Putrefying reek drives me insane,
I'm living and deceased, rot seeps into my brain
Horrid reality, oh so grim

Current condition caused by God,
The living side now must be calmed,
I seek a mortician to have the dead half embalmed

I try and walk, the dead half drags
Living eye watched as decaying flesh sags,

Marked by God, tormented living hell,
Begging to die, I can't endure my smell

Malicious revilement against God,
Now by Christ, I'm abhorred,
Doomed execration afflicted curse,
Non-believers fate - forgive me lord

An undertaker is my last hope,
Intense mortification, I no longer cope
Pathologists can't explain why one half died,
End solution kill the living side.