Swine

You're a swine and i'm saying that's an insult to the pig

In the foul furrow that you dig

Why don't you lay your head down

In that unconsecrated ground

Was she your mother?

Or was she your bride

To defile and to blister

To gnaw at her side

Is this the end of the world?

Now that you've finished your life

This riddle is the work of my little pen-knife