CONFESSIONS OF A DANGEROUS MIND
The hunger, it calls out from the dark,
Thirst for blood, to extinguish a spark,
The victim chosen, marked for the slay,
Lamb to slaughter, like hapless prey,
After days of stalking, frustration is whet,
At last the day is fixed, and the venue is set,
The tools are readied, clothing is all black,
Like the Grim Reaper, but the scythe is lack,
The moment arrives; the quarry is in sight,
Jumped from behind, not much of a fight,
The cold steel blade meets warm skin,
Excitement now, where frustration had been,
A deep thrust, another to be sure,
Crimson stains, it will shine no more,
Screams of agony, Music of sorts,
Body goes limp, the face contorts,
Drenched in blood, high on the kill,
Symphony of death, Time stands still.
Comments (1)
Well written