I have no Love for a Child.

I have no love for a child.
I have no time for love.
I have no need for woe.
My seed I will scour instead of sow.
I have time for sex though.

I have no patience for a child.
That dead child, I’ll make it a dead child.
I’m too good to kill a man,
But it’s ok,
Because it’s not a man yet,
We kill the old before they age,

Right?

We bring death on those before they are dead,
We take life away from those who are gaining it.
We spread a cancer before it kills,
Burry the corpse, burry the baby.
No one will save thee.
Life is a tiresome complication to sex.
In my life I will have no child
No baby of mine,
I need no baby,
Or child,
My life exists not to make life.

But to take it away,
Like the setting of day,
What’s that you say?
I agree, a woman has the right,
To take away another’s sight.
Sans eyes, sans mouth, sans everything.

From sex comes pleasure and nothing more.
We’re all the hedonistic whore.
We make the binding of the law.
Steel and iron knives make you sore.
That dig deep inside of you and make you shout
Don't worry, we'll scrape that baby out.
But we’ll have a café late next door,
And forget about it all, and make love on the floor.

Consequences, I have no need of them!
I’ll flush them out of you,
Like water,

The flesh like water we’ll flush out of you,
Make a person liquid and dunk him down a drain.
Make thechild liquid, turn him into rain.
That boils on the roofs of factories in the sun.
All that is good and noble has run.

In the vacuum of the body,
We’ll make a vacuum of the soul,
And cleave a way inside
For the consequences to hide
On a scalpels point
We'll draw a pretty picture
In red.
With razor blades we'll make a lullaby to put a baby to sleep.
Do not weep.

We'llkeep it in a jar,
And hold hands and walk out, smiling.
Your pretty green eyes,
Such smooth tender thighs,
My dear you have such pretty green eyes,
That are mimicked flawlessly in the face behind that jar. Dead eyes.
That infant form floating in formaldehyde so far,
It’s near to me as I breathe, it does not breathe.
As I see, it does not see.
But I’m me, my decisions are free.

No consequences.

I have no need for a child.
I have no want for a child.
I’ll give no life to a child.
Your body makes me wild.

There’s something bitter in the core,
Spit it out and lets roll on the floor some more.
And hold each other tight as night sets down,
As that dead baby floats round,
We’ve done no wrong, it’s our choice.
In taking it we took away a voice.

In that glass jar of a womb.
A Man made tomb.
A morality to exhume.
Sex brings doom.

We’re like pale Gods in this room.
Innocence spotless and pure like the faded moon.
And the cold stars that frame it in the sky.
We choose what lives and what shall die.
We shall not hear a baby’s cry.
Blot life out, let life die.

Do not utter a single sigh,
I will not hear you cry.

Sans womb, sans life, sans sex, sans man.