COME HERE AND GATHER ROUND, FOR I HAVE A TALE THAT WILL MAKE YOUR HEART POUND, a tale of sisters in rebellion, wanting to be free and merry.
This is the tale of girls who kiss the cross of Christ, marking their bodies against the crucifix, these little Catholic girls.
Beneath their hymns of praises in the churches, with their mellifluous voices uplifting the populace and their skin covered with dark garments, hide little Catholic girls with guns, rifles, shotguns and many more included. Hidden beneath the dark garments lay murderesses with nefarious thoughts, seeking to demolish their blind faith in the father.
Beneath every little prayer of these Catholic girls lie chants of changes and incantations of the cynical devil, filled with so-called flowery language of the Father to heathen screams and cries of utter rebellion which have been oppressed by the initiation of the Christ.
These Catholic girls are sick and tired of kneeling to fat Catholic bastards, who touch them in places that are not meant to be touched and who have been supposedly baptized by the good, precious Christ.
These Catholic girls hide underneath all the prayers in the dead of the night, their whispering voices whirling in the wind and not ascending to the most High.
These Catholic girls have had enough, with guns and knives and machetes and flaming sticks in their hands, they seek nothing but utter rebellion. Even the old nuns, with blisters on their feet and moles on their wrinkly faces have had enough of the demonic torture they had endured from these fat Catholic men.
As they make their way, with flame torches and sticks bearing grotesque features, they ring the gigantic bells deciding the faith of these Catholic men.
They have had enough.
Quietly but not quietly these Catholic girls make their way and infiltrate into the rooms of the Catholic men, who are snoring and snoozing in all mannerisms, others dreaming of these Catholic girls bare of clothes and the other dreaming of these Catholic girls doing sexual things to these Catholic men.
Such vile, dirty, bloody pigs they are.
Slowly sneaking up on these fat Catholic bastards, they slice their throats and set them ablaze, eager to see these fat men jumping around, screaming as the flames gently kiss their fair skin, turning it black.
What a wonderful sight to gaze upon the death of unholy heathen men pretending to be God's men, God's children.
Some tried to flee, begging stupidly, and found themselves being stabbed in the back by flame torches and sticks and knives, a huge pool of viscous blood drizzling down their bodies like ketchup with hotdog.
Some of them surrendered and wanted to serve these Catholic girls, but they refused, and watched them meet their maker.
These Catholic girls are now free, free from the oppression, and as they sing beautiful songs of victory, they set the whole church ablaze, like the heathens they were underneath.
Their screams of joyous laughter ran throughout the entire town, and these Catholic — I mean — heathen girls skipped merrily over the burnt debris, screaming Hallelujah to the gods and goddesses who freed them from the oppression of those fat Catholic bastards.
And that concludes our story of those Catholic girls.
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no reason to sacrifice human lives to pursue one's freedom !
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note : i am a Catholic myself (:
YOU ARE READING
kill your darlings.
Poetrymurder has never been sweeter. kill your darlings and meet your maker. • • • indefinite hiatus, can be regarded as complete.
