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A recorded reading of “Joyful Horror”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
Little angels, come out to play— join the fun that began yesterday. Let’s paint the countryside in hues of red, seeking the weak, leaving them for dead. Hang the wives while I clean the street, send the children home in packets sweet. A joyful surprise for parents’ screams, hailing the new Reich of twisted dreams. Come on out, it’s party day— plenty to do if you just say the name. We’ll wreck them, split them, dismember with glee, parading with trophies, two pupils to see. A lesson in joyful play unfolds, filling pits with slaves gone cold. Counting horrors on faces worn, splitting their skulls as a new dawn’s born. Pouring their lives into my chalice of dread, awaiting the demons to feast ahead. Getting off on deaths, enjoying the ride— new tortures devised for the dark side. An electrifying thrust, a pelvic jolt, sending them reeling, disgusted and cold. The spoils of hope and memories fade, desperate depression as light decays. Thoughts that twist, with no reprieve, dragging me to this hell I weave. Tours of darkness slipping through my mind, rowing against thunder, no escape to find. So come on out, it’s party day— there’s plenty to do, just say my name. We’ll wreck him, split him, dismember with pride, parade with his pupils, a carnival of the defiled.
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