In Hell Is Where She Waits for Me - The Black Dahlia Murder

I watch the bitter tears slalom down grief stricken faces

for a moments time I feel I am the god of which they speak

under the guise of anonymity I masquerade in thrilling mockery

an erection juts begrudgingly from twixt my silken sunday pleats

the coffin is sealed face to go unrevealed

but I dare know what lies underneath

two bloodless halves of a dark flower dead

whose dream turned the nightmare that dwells beneath our darkened beds

how pathetically I broke her like a doll of porcelain

I found her primed for a raping that could never be

in wanton fallacy the temptress played deceiving taunting charming fools like me

her silhouette an hourglass whose sands of time would empty fast

«A rose must remain with the sun and the rain or its lovely promise won’t come

true.»

than call me the nightfall the colder than death a winter unending that’s

stolen her breath

dead and famous at last she’s made it

her mangled face

haunting shameless

the death of peace

endarkened times

crowned an immortal yet stricken of life

the headlines read «Young Starlet --- Dead!»

drained of her lifesblood and nourished with shit

sodomized

defeminized

silent the victor

vengeance is mine

in hell is where she waits for me

seductress burns in sin

the succubus deceased

the funeral has ceased you can all rest at ease

my desire be not to kill again

I’ll now disappear leaving legend to fear

so lock every door tight from now until eternity

dead and famous at last she’s made it

her mangled face

smiling shameless

the death of peace

endarkened times

crowned an immortal yet stricken of life

the headlines read «Young Starlet --- Dead!»

drained of her lifesblood and nourished with shit

sodomized

defeminized

I am the victor

vengeance is mine

I watched the bitter tears slalom down grief stricken faces

for a moments time I feel I am the god of which they speak

I the misogynist

her crooked smile my seal of hatred

incarnate of the beast

the god of which they speak