The Urge

By Mephistopheles



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Have you ever wanted to kill someone?
Don't you think pulling the trigger would be fun?
Take them by the throat & squeeze out their life.
Flay them alive w/ a rusty hunting knife.
Running amok w/ a gun in hand.
Blood spilled red across dark brown sand.
Mass homicide w/ an evil twist.
Can find no better reason to exist.

What is this urge to kill?
Drained of life by cold sharp steel.
Killing fast can't be enjoyed
Savour the torture w/ deadly toys.
Young or old, Death does not care.
But women scream louder than men dare.
Killing is done w/ no remorse.
Nature takes an adjusted course.

My fingers, your throat gently caress.
Sweetly coaxed you remove your dress.
Silk bonds to the bedpost secure.
You know not I think you a whore.
No feelings for you do I have.
Sation of the lust I now crave.
My hands around your neck I press.
No fear in your eyes you think I jest.

Darkness surrounds you, lack of air.
Unconscious you lie; I stroke your hair.
Across your skin, I glide my knife.
But not yet shall I take your life.
First I must whet my appetite.
Carve off your skin by candlelight.
Your whimpering & blood curdling cries.
Drugs I gave you left you paralysed.

My time I take, patience is mine.
Laughing at your cries, I enjoy my crime.
Your pelt will be my prize.
My trophy is your demise.
Salt I pour on your raw flesh.
Your fear & pain I relish.
Pain is everywhere; there is no escape.
Before you succumb your life I must take.
In my trophy room I now go.
W/ all the other yours will be on show.


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The Urge ©2000 by Marco Gaminara

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