Repented Sins of Regret
I repent the regretful sins of past times
Written accounts in blood carelessly
Detail in every one of them last lines
Granules of closed dunes fell sparinglyTick, Tock, Tick, Tock
Give me papyrus to placate my mind with
Give me a pen to list my crimes with
Give me time to concoct false details
Give me mine to shield from what entails
Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock
She waltzed onto the couch, laughing the night away
She halted & crouched, an invitation she lightly swayed
Then turned away obliging me to come hither…close
Sliding clothes induce ripples of sweat, nervously pose
A prostitute performing to amass adolescent adorations
Cultivated teenage sex lives, my girlfriend the prostitute
Placations from her false mouth only drove me to despair
Verbose clients created camera captures to sit & stare
Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock
Dinners fully arranged with drowsing pills spilled into her wine flute
Drinking chute laced with powdered crystals, deviously arranged
She smiles, she drinks…then she stumbles and begins to fall
I catch her…with iron nails…under the carpet covered and all
“AGGHHHHH!” she screams with pleasure, my darling crying
Times flying hearing those loud orgasms as I tip molten wax
All over her body, first her head then her back, she’s laying
Mozart playing in the background, as I ground the blunt axe
Onto her knee, too dull to cut so I colour her purple and blue
Then a red spurt of vividness sprays into my dilated pupils
I tear away the rags covering the body she so often abused
Used the oozed blood with blades a smoothie made of pooled ills
…She choked on the drink
I made sure she was alive, semi conscious yet aware of the scene
She screamed when she looked at where her little finger had been
She liked men fingering, so I picked her finger and fingered her out
After her every shout, she blacked out then I arranged her lips to pout
Scissors sharpened I kissed those lips, then cut, snip, cut, they’re sliced
Diced them with her iced tongue, taste better with Bacardi on the side
Miming me obscenities, she needs to lose weight so I carve off excess
Flesh; her toned torso now tattooed with a meshed net time for the rest
To follow suit, she’s opens her legs in anticipation for more action
I tease her by inserting a fraction; then complete a full chainsaw insertion
Pull the trigger, pull the trigger….I pull it, she screams in agony & writhes
In pain, I ride with joy & her body goes lame, slowly the chainsaw glides
Back out, I sit back and admire the abstract art I created, an upstart
To her, so I now leave her with frosted seamen from our neighbour Doug Bart
I regret what I did…I really do
Steve Martin Matthews you are accused for 13 counts of murder
Furthermore, you also tried to blame an innocent man
You are an extreme case of necrophilia but shall not be given
Any psychological counselling instead left to die & repent
For the sins you committed murdering those 13 prostitutes.