Carrion Cold

You thirst for innocence & its hunt.
You are an evil iron clad cunt.

Front faced facade’s a beautiful lie.
It hides rot left by another guy.

Buy the whole lot & set fire to bricks.
Not much left after; still, something sticks.

Wicks burn fast…save the advent of wax.
Life at that speed carries hefty tax.

Ax hefted high o’er your own pale neck.
Now…you’re the only thing left to wreck.