then when they rot I will feed them to the fish.
I been called Dahmar, Bundy, Gein, and Gasey,
but in reality I am just crazy.
I crave blood and death like you would crave food,
so donâ€™t talk to me when I am in darkest mood.
I will have your head or skin hanging on my wall,
that you are to share with all. Darkness cloaks my body so I can do my will,
fresh from my work I take to my only thrill.
No boss to scream at me or tell me what to do,
just the raw action of what remains true.
A knife inside my shirt hides what lies ahead,
an unknown person to me will lie dead.
Without a word I will stalk them to a dead end,
then under a lamppost I will let my fury descend.
The traffic noise will dull their screams of pain,
even with thrashing around, it will be in vane.
I will have my delight of blood flesh and skin,
and at the foot of a dead body I will cast my bloody grin.
Police will try to stop me with all their might,
but I will win the final fight.
My hunting ground will change with each passing day,
and I will kiss those who will become my prey.
Take a piece of flesh, or even a hair off their head,
for nothing will stop me when they are dead.
I will visit them any time I wish,
Woah, that was pretty insane for someone i hope i not writing based on personal experiences lol i'm just kiddin' seriously though, very unique and chilling. i could lucidly envision the diabolical actions of a serial killer. this piece was very deep and eery. interesting and amazing write from a what a killers perspective would mostly likely be. brilliant work. 5/5