The Art کے بول

Stringed puppets dancing, Drawing flies to the stench Flesh impaled with wires Sick, amusing, painful play Imagination, evisceration A morbid show With blood on the wall Hear peoples call Chant and applaud Caged in mocked misery And audience with bleeding taste Pulling strings, open sores Come in, Come in and catch the art Barbed wire, embracing like fire Deforming architecture Endless desires, clawing pyre Like a living dissection Closing ecstasy, a fevered burning plague Temptations lost control, Rips apart the victims whole Artistic patterns remain Like a puzzle in its chaos start Flesh been ripped apart, satisfying the art