The Sermon of Mr. Brimstone Pt. 4 (RawShaped)

 "My hand on my dick can cause a physical masturbation
An action better than God not showing a physical manifestation,
 "Sitting on his ass, while the world dies under a living Sun
As the revelation feeds us genocidal fear, at a slow run,
 
 "Consider this the ultimate sin, from my words of sinister
blasphemy
But we're all born sinners of a open accepting pussy,
 "Either by rape, love, accident or incest
We are the erotic product, gifted with an unknown unwanted rest,
 
 "Terror organizations might read, want to recruit, because they identify with this shit
But just like organized religion, they can choke on my Brimstone dick,
 "Their disorganized doctrine will not dictate my dilemma
Now my diarrhea is free flowing from the removal of my divine enema,
 
 "Along with my life map tattoos and scar tissue
Reminding of the continuous shit I go through,
 "Telling the story of how my soul and flesh suffer
So you can consider me that ugly motherfucker,
 
 "But life itself is the motherfucker-that musty-cunt bitch
Eternally fucked with a diseased dick, now it has that uncontrollable itch,
 "An irritating distraction with a immediate effect
Causing us to seek deep relief, until we're bloody wet,
 
 "The silence of madness constantly screams without a sound
Eliminating our higher brain functions like a assassin's round,
 "Entering our life and exiting as death
Now we're half-dead motherfuckers trying to catch our last breathe."