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The Last Something Or Other

Ed Stal (19961224)

Wake up, I've come for the dead,
Feel it, a bullet piercing your head.

I shackled him down and beat him well,
Giant welts and bruises that swell,
I grab a knife and carve my name,
Into your warm and reddened back,
With a vice I apply the pressure,
And crush every one of your fingers.

I lick the blood,
It tastes good,
I want more...

A tiny wire around your toes,
Pulling quickly I rip them all off,
An ice pick now graces your legs,
Hacking and stabbing I rip them apart,
Slashing with a knife I open your gut,
And watch the entrails fall to the floor.

I chew your stomach,
Tastey and filling,
I need more...

One by one I grab your ribs,
And free them from your dangling spine,
A few wires and a free outlet,
I electrify and char your arms,
An with a final deadly blow,
I crack open your skull.

Oh, the great taste of grey matter.

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dis-Emi-A Index
Modified: 19971122
Copyright 1995-2001 mort-ora-y