In their final breaths they will understand. They were never the hunters, only prey dressed in the illusion of power. When their final shapes, molded by expert hands, are presented to the world to consume, it is in the form of a natural symphony. A reminder that death improves even the most vicious, cowardly rats and cockroaches. Jews can not skitter in the darkness forever, chewing a mess of our homelands they occupy and leaving behind their fecal droppings. All mangy, unwashed curs like them must stumble weakly into the light, where their dangers are no longer palpable because it's too bright to sneak up and stab someone in the back. Where they suddenly realize what it is to become the prey. We who have seen their crimes are far more dangerous than Jews like to believe they are. We are numerous, we are strong, more cunning, more capable; and we will carve understanding into our "sculptures", create new life through their expired ends.