Deep in the bowels of my basement
There sits a box of goodies that excites me
Filled up with putrid gore
Body parts of the young and old alike
Festering right here before me
I murder with my conscious clear
Soaking in the pluck of humans
Up to my neck
Livers, kidneys, lungs, and intestines
Just to name a few
Naked and standing at full mast
Aroused
Slamming my co*k viciously spewing semen ecstasy
Praise my gore box
When all my victims have succumbed to my rage
They're prepared for amateur dissection
Their ribcage meets my bone saw
Bones crack as I expose their innards, so inviting
No need for gloves
Fondle their bloody organs
Can't ignore the madness that saturates me
When I bathe in innards, the lion's subdued
The stench of the virtuous ascends to my nostrils
Triggering reminiscent thoughts of when I made them pule
Why do these morbid deeds you ask?
Could I have been abandoned as a child?
Or maybe beaten to a bloody pulp?
It could be a million scenarios
Maybe I just like the power of d**h
To see my victims paralyzed with fear
Control of their fate
I just love to watch them die