The Nurtured Monster

Stab upon the weak,
Motionless in dirt
As their blood slithers
Around the anthill,
Following the path of the killer
Staining the trail of breadcrumbs,
Charming the blood snake
Into the grave,
He smiles at the grizzly sight
Finding his lullaby,
He has satisfied his lust for death
Between meals of the glutton,
As the parasites eat away
At the fragment of sanity,
Making his craving insatiable,
It claws at his chest
Ripping him from the inside
He feeds the monster living inside him,
Losing chunks of himself
Sacrificing it down to his fevered seed,
Sprouting throughout him,
Taking control
Never letting go of the wheel,
Fully immersed in the lunacy
Of the poison he ingested,
Jekyll, no more,
He lives in the metamorphoses
That he subjected himself to,
Death is his love,
Death is his drug,
Death, is his beginning,
And it needs to be his end,
A sliver of what was
Climbs its way out of shrouded villainy
To stab weak

4 thoughts on “The Nurtured Monster

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