The Dead do Not Revolt

Rivers of viscera crawl on the tile,
Corruption clots in the drain.
The bodies are dragged out,
The bodies are burned.
Now line them up again.


The Dead Do Not Revolt!


Pens filled with liars lining the walls,
To stifle our genius they tried.
Their tongues are now cut out,
They're shot in the head.
And history rejoices they've died.


The Dead Do Not Revolt!