Disdained and discarded are the ill-fated outcasts,

For their philosophy and presence have left numerous aghast,

Ostracized by their own with a torrent of screams,

From blasphemous simians and promiscuous fiends.

Deep within the forest the outcasts have traveled,

Beneath the slopes, a cavern has been unraveled,

Traversing the mouth that appear so dreadfully tangled,

They discover fresh fetuses, impaled and mangled.

"This is a mass slaughter," exclaimed the Doctor,

As the outcasts watched in horror,

Clutching their fists while in fury, they cringed,

Declaring that the unborn shall at last be avenged.

From a rooftop, they watched the gathering at hand,

Grunting with disgust at this savage buck-dance,

When the speech has concluded, ending their mutter,

The match was lit and flames have sputtered.

Before the burning could commence,

A swarm of fetuses lunged for vengeance,

Screams of agony rose from this atrocity

A fine disembowelment for the town of hypocrisy.

The ghetto masquerade is finally no more,

A town block party now saturated in gore,

The ill-fated unborn now sought their new graves,

Within their bearers as they slept together in flames.

The town is reborn with prosperity anew,

Who revived her from ashes with wealth that grew,

This ode is for the forgotten, who shall never be mourned,

Who faced their demise by the hands of the unborn.