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In the Name of Holy Ejaculation

In the past
I saw Parvati’s hand disappeared one day
Those were lesser divine as the hands were lost yet found
The hands were under the tiger’s skin around Mahadeva’s groin
The god fondled a snake around his neck
All he wanted was not a hand job
All he wanted was a bowl of beef delicacy;

In the present
As the cold season makes its entry
Krishna is still a pig,
Albeit he wouldn’t even touch onions
Just like my pious grandfather
All he wants is a pot of vaginas
Better, if those are marinated with curd and butter.

The believers are lost in divine orgasm
As their world is flooded with bloody godly cum.

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