"I feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy. I feel as if my mask is about to slip."

Two slits
Of red
Where your throat was slashed

Slashing hands
With my blade
No protection from my hate

Eyes cut
Leaving void
Dangling by your mouth

Come to me Willing no fear or precaution

Victims hung on display
For my later reference

Devouring intestinal macabre
Choking on the stench

Starvation of vermin
Soon it will feast

Limbs torn from sockets
Faces ripped away

Rotted flesh my ambrosia

Tokens saved for lack of discrimination
Toys in my hand items of pride
Carcass stored for wretched flesh consumption
Flayed systematically by my saw
Shattered chest cavity
Intestinal coelom empties
At my feet your life lies

Preying on the helpless
Lethal verge of frenzy
Hands soaked with blood

Uncaught

Uncaught