I
I seethe with ardent hatred for the slut,
in every single atom of my frame.
And fibers yearn inside my raging gut,
To cast the whore into a scorching flame.
The harlot for her own good pleasure stole
From men, contentment's heartbeat and joy's breath,
For such an action by this wicked soul,
The only fitting punishment is death.
How beautiful would be the righteous day,
When men arrest the whore despite her cry,
And pelt the slut with stones as they all say,
"You fornicating harlot, you must die"
If girls want to engage in carnal vice,
Then they should be prepared to pay the price.
in every single atom of my frame.
And fibers yearn inside my raging gut,
To cast the whore into a scorching flame.
The harlot for her own good pleasure stole
From men, contentment's heartbeat and joy's breath,
For such an action by this wicked soul,
The only fitting punishment is death.
How beautiful would be the righteous day,
When men arrest the whore despite her cry,
And pelt the slut with stones as they all say,
"You fornicating harlot, you must die"
If girls want to engage in carnal vice,
Then they should be prepared to pay the price.
