Misfortune - Abramelin

Like cattle to the slaughter, he lures them to their death

Morbid thoughts fill twisted mind, a crave for tearing flesh

Friendly face, a lollipop

He traps them after school

Flat-chested, pretty six-year-old, the type that makes him drool

Lubricates his vile tool, child tied to the bed

Rams his rod, the pelvis snaps, sheets stained brown and red

Frustration tears his mind apart

The pain in his brain- Making him insane…

His tool shed hosts a magnitude of corpses torn and scattered

Bloodied meat strewn on the floor from bodies slashed and tattered

Sickened brain, repulsive lusts, feeble bodies torn apart

Finger paints, with body fluids, disgusting abstract art

Stark staring mad, re-enacting horrid dreams

Horrors of his mind-made reality

More than flesh and blood can bear, raging uncontrolled

Feeble heartbeat drifts away, corpse lies still and cold