Psychopath's Monologue

Spirit
 Spirit of moonlight and fatigue
 Rise from the shadows
 Like dust from the rubble
 You prey on the cadavers
 Of silky arms, silky legs
 Sprinkling your seeds as you go
 Fulfil your virginal craving
 Descend onto me
 Descend onto me
 Descend into me
 Plough through me
 Plough through me
 Plough through me
 Fill me with your insatiable hunger
 Swallow me whole
 Devour me
 A willing host
 A pleasurable slave
 Child of the illusive shadows
 Why do you answer prayers so passively
 So indifferently?
 Your indifference
 Your nonchalance
 Your wanton sigh
 Shall I let the hordes in
 Shall I let the hordes in
 Shall I let the hordes in?
 Dear Mia
 Lone stone in a dark cave
 A pagan awaiting the feared deity
 Daily offerings of blood and words
 Daily offerings of blood and wounds
 Deck the walls with crimson roses
 Polish the jagged limestones to mirror gleam
 Fend off Lady Moon's intruding pallor
 Bleeding worship
 Piercing throats with lancets
 Bloodied mouths
 Bloodied towels
 Dear Mia
 The million pilgrims they await
 With blood trickling down their mouths, necks, garments
 Shall I let the hordes in
 Shall I let the hordes in
 The silent god
 The dumb deity
 Corroding beings and intestines
 Why do you answer prayers so passively, so implicitly?
 Your indifference
 Your nonchalance
 Your wanton sigh
 God is unconscious
 God is dead
 A deaf god
 Unconscious god
 A dead god
 We were born afraid
 Nourished by insect blood
 Birthed from gilded loins
 Collectible scars
 Collective wounds
 A part of growing up
 A part of growing old
 A part of living
 A part of dying
 A masquerade
 A macabre parade
 Martyrs died
 Sanctified but insane
 Saluting those who fell before us
 Into demi gods
 We traverse from pigeon holes to panic rooms
 Decking the nondescript mundane
 With Bohemian crystal chandeliers
 That could have fed a starving nation
 The mannequin behind the glossy glass window
 Stiff with rigor mortis
 Perfection in plastic
 Rigid, ramrod, eyes fixated
 Alas! She is but dead
 But forced into a fate worse than death
 Still death intertwined
 Out of space, out of time
 Into a distant pantomime
 Still death intertwined
 Here, there is no shelter from the rain
 Of errant skull shattering
 Hailstones of no mercy
 All I need is for you
 To talk to me
 Ravish me
 Lynch me
 Love me
 Spit in my face
 Spit me my face as you scour me
 Talk to me
 Ravish me
 Lynch me
 Love me
 For we are bright stars circling different orbits
 Perhaps someday we will meet
 Perhaps someday we will greet
 Then crash and burn
 Crash and burn
 Oh what a spectacle
 The mise en scène
 The sublime
 A thousand scars
 Festering wounds
 Isn't decomposition an innately beautiful thing?
 Fertile soils to sow the seeds of regeneration
 A baptism of fire
 We would emerge scarred but unscathed
 All was white hot
 All was chaos
 We are but mortals
 Born afraid to die
 We are the living
 Dead amongst putrid lives
 Unable to love
 To live, to exist whole
 Cowering behind thin veils
 We conceal our empty selves
 Empty selves
 In empty shells
 Empty selves
 In empty shells