Stillborn

I sit upon An ornamented throne In front of those Who celebrate I'm gone My eyes of glass Witness the twisted mass They dance in joy I'm ignorance's toy Pure child Immaculate Cold, white And innocent I give release From life in pain I am idol I am their hope I'm dead Fanatic Ecstatic Obsessed Blessed with death Stench of mortality My body rots away They boil my flesh Prolonged decay Extending this insanity Fanatic Ecstatic Obsessed Blessed with death