Alone in this cold, dark place, I dream of bloody freedom. Stout coffin walls enclose me, damp clay presses overhead, but neither boards nor mud or any other earthly substance can long contain hate such as mine.
So very soon, those hypocritical, wailing 'friends' who accompanied my poor carcass on what the fools hoped was its final journey will be mourning themselves, while faithless sons wiping dry eyes with silk handkerchiefs and chuckling secretly over their marvellous good fortune are about to inherit that which they truly deserve.
We shall all meet again when these new teeth have grown sharp.
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