Blasphemy

Thou shain't use The lord's name in vain, passed down as a common courtesy for holy beings.

Well, I shall desecrate such a rule, for those beings who are tough but so holy have forsaken me in every way shape-shifting and form. Throwing me to the curve as if nothing more than disposables, using me as a Meer tool to fight in their wars, and taking from me all that made me human to a fault.

I have let rage feast upon me and my heart as if it were being consumed by maggots. I have let my words become a poison blamed against all things holy. I have let my mind become warped, twisted in every direction in which it didn't face before.

My rage is a genga town to me, for the wrong move can result in self destruction. My heart will disappear entirely, my words becoming rusted and sour, and my mind will snap in all directions into a bunch of million pieces, and that's what makes the continuation of my hatred for these beings so thrilling. It is not that they have left us all to die in this miserable decrepit world, but that this rage that resides within my soul can cause their or my own doom.

Join in my game of Russian roulette, oh decrepit gods, for I will drag you down with me in this misery. I will fill every chamber with bullets just to watch you go down with me. I will wrestle your nonexistent heart right out of your chest and dig through your organs to rebuild you.

I will break you down and put you back together, just as you did to me. I will take and take all that you have and more, turn the world against you, and defile your very name till it is an insult in the mouth of dogs.

Bugs will feast on your existence and not even vermin will want to be your friends, I'll pull you apart piece by piece till all that's left of you is but a passing sour shadow in people's memories.