proud murderer...

NECROPHILE’S SENTIMENTS.

A thief comes at night,

While I strike whenever I feel right,

Time isn’t really my measure

I’m coming for your blood, I love it stale,

The pleasure that comes from your fear stricken face,

Yes I am your reality horror.

I love the beauty in your pain.

Why be alive when I can have you dead?

I am your worst nightmare,

While to me you are my dream come true,

My deadly satisfaction,

My heart beats rhythmically to the silence of yours.

I kill,

Not because I want to but because I have to,

You really are attractive when dead,

Don’t get me wrong,

I like you alive but I love you dead,

The bliss of your cold lifeless body,

That is real turn on to me,

The perfection of your motionless love making,

Not a sound, not a move you make,

That gives me all the pleasure I would ever wanted.

Why are you afraid of me?

At the mere mention of my name or rather condition as some scientists’ term it,

You all shiver in disgust,

I walk in the shadows for I fear the light,

Silently preying, the very merchant of death,

Yes, just the thought of your dead body turns me on,

The smell of your blood makes mine boil.

Please do not judge me for we both have this repulsive urges.

I am human, just a little beastly,

Everyone has a different taste right?

I prefer mine lacking of life,

I get so much satisfaction from corpses, bloody corpses.

I did not ask to be this way,

They all say do what makes you happy,

Well you are next on my list.

I will hunt you down.

They call me Earl, the crazy necrophile.