Societal rot, like shit stain on a cot,
God is clearly a cute kid crude and sick.
In his self indulgent juvenile fantasy,
He authorized me as his masterbatory prick.
Arrested in development I am too,
An equal opportunity asshole.
I am not averse to the gruesome,
Unflinchingly lecherous my dark soul.
My shit bullshit, a smashing hit,
Plan to triple puke my punch,
The three main religion into a ball of vomit,
I hurl after every bengali lunch.
With shit up to my tits, it will surely fit,
The type of future I hope to fuck.
How holy vomit mixed snot, pin worm knot,
Dislocates the unsuspecting who are stuck.
Holy pickled corpus cavernosum in pissed off rum,
An engorged phallus in your asshole will fit.
Soothing aloevera very nice thrice,
Reduce the chance of sentimental shit.
I ram hatred, pseudoscience, bigotry and flimflam,
Into the fabric of every thought.
Before you know, you are a whore,
Obey the almighty fuckpot or not?
Now is the time to turn the other cheek,
No ass cheek, you titless forbidden fruit!
Now I spray more you ill begotten whore,
To make you repent your ugly root.
Yes like they say, sort of cleansing spray,
God covets rich humans in one big holy clan.
All included and charged on their face,
In one convenient quick installment plan.
But butt fuck you may, charge extra,
You can even fuck a whore horse.
Just pay your bills through December,
Credit cards accepted of course.
It's a glorious day I conceived this limerick,
Sitting slant on my bed scratching my balls.
Shall not the zeitgeist whisper naughty things,
Into my ears or order free booty calls?
I'm famished, my rice is cooking,
All work for almighty to come near.
I eat thrice and then three times I vacate,
Rice into a pious pudding and holy beer.
The less enlightened frowns must know,
It's god who bless us when nature calls.
The relics of past, risible they say and mock,
Clearly they need to see my hairy balls.
My shit faced dick, my dick faced shit,
Core to the body, wrapped in sin.
Identifiable marks, three spitting voice holes,
Yapping constantly with a loony grin.
A masala abrahamic soul could be so much more foul,
Bring so much doom, death and despair.
If done well it could wipe the shit out of all the other bullshit,
In a tremulous whisper of dismay says the soothsayer.
I'll drink the planet's blood to the dregs,
I piss on your face and poop in your hand.
Say trillion trite bullshit but do scary shit,
Lick my dingle-berries, to celebrate , I demand.
Holy those souls, looking for fucks and trolls,
Join me, my emotions boiling to hot.
Chaos and loot, vomit and poot,
Always gift the devotee, diarrhea in a pot.
Thus today, religion triple X is born, in Kolkata the town where rickshaws, fraudsters and ministers toot their horn on the same cartoon.
Fuck you all, on this auspicious day.
Says I, prophet triple X the new top goon.
