Separating Appetite from Inspiration

Please be aware that this poem is written for an adult audience - if you are easily offended/squeamish - please do not read any further.

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looking for a victim walking the streets
looking for a little piece of fresh meat
maybe that bitch maybe those twins
so many people just where to begin
beating my brains to make a fucking choice
then from in my head comes a wicked voice
you think it's a voice, but i infect from within
to penetrate your systems, and crawl under your skin
I'm the goosebumps on your arms when you kill again and again
it tells me to kill it fills me with despise
i am the fire that ignites behind your eyes
filled with rage of so much past violence
as i enter your memories, such a sting of defiance
like a fire blinded and fueled by the wind it despises
i take the blade in my hand blood drips as it rises
no, lift it higher for more gory suprises
higher it goes and again plunges down
ripping flesh is such a sweet sound
yes it is, like the sucking sound derived from leeches
now lick the blade and show them what "sick" really is
blade to my tongue i taste the coagulating essence
tell me now bitch who is un pleasent
oh she's a filthy whore, worthy of Babylon
look in her drawer, she adorns a strap-on
so many holes where should i stick this dick
but the one in the throat is mine now just a little prick
so twist that blade to make no mistake about loving this hate
for greatness was meant to degrade the faithless
give the faith to those filthy sinners
i throw her breast in the oven i told we'd go to dinner
slow roast the pillows until it's sweet meat smokes upwards in billows
and the aroma of the eternal coma comes clear in her weeping willows
i feel her witin me she has become a believer
but im still hungry lets go get the cleaver
no not the cleaver, it's to heavy and causes to much racket
i've got a better solution, bring destruction with the hatchet
seperating limbs with one little chop
all over is spreading sweet little drops
crimson rain spouting from her veins
her picture lying perfect in the crooked frames
such a pretty face can i make it my own
now i look through her eyes and shes ugly to the bone
start from the crown and descend to the chin
they say real beauty can be viewed from within
i place this skin upon my own face
licking her lips to give me one more taste
then off the bedside table i grab a little mirror
i see an twisted image that slowly becomes clearer
peekaboo, it's me again, what do you think of our little mannequin
time to put on that mask again, masquerade among the mass again
dont tell me what to do or youll be next to die
clawing at my face now with unlidded eye
you can't get rid of me, i'm an abhorred demise
i'm not that kind of guy, i wasn't born to die
oh but you will feel deaths sweet kiss
shattering mirror sliding a shard across my wrist
see? now i'm reflected in your ignorant bliss
and now i'll infect your world because it's come to this
shouting to the heavens in a scream of denial
slicing even more writing a word in mutilation style
hearing your screams i can't help but smile
even as you carve my name in your chest, your temple defiled
as more blood flows im becoming dizzy
but atleast when i go youre fucking coming with me
you may try to get me, but you'll never forget me
i'm like a parasite, a martyr's right to paradise in your next life
ah but with this act my so i do sell
as the body i will die and you will go to hell
well then i'll have the last laugh, because i'll just be going home
you'll suffer eternal torment, frightened and alone
with you in my heart i only know torment
and i tear out my jugular in a symphonius crimson torrent
and as i lifted from his corpse and watched the bloodbath flow on
spirited by my lost colleague, such a promising subject, so inticing and wild
my dreams of conquest long gone, but my plan was far from blown
behind his eyes i brought fear and demise, i remembered...she had left behind a newborn child...
And as time passed by, the boy grew to know sorrow.
Holding hate inside, where his true intentions hide, he brought horrors for tomorrow