La Folie D'une Hache

The Devil's only fear,
And yet his only friend.
One gene wrong, one missing gear,
There is pleasure to be had in a thrifty new trend.

One tranquilizing touch leads to an endless night.
Maniacally twisted fingers will chain you to the wall of his basement,
All the while he is consumed by laughter for your futile screams of fright.
With his trusty axe he will carelessly slice away your veins and
Pour gallons of salt and rubbing alcohol on your exposed flesh for his own delight.

Lock up your children,
Run for your life.
Thousands, he has carved them;
A sculpture of his own device.
With blood-stained hands from severed limbs,
He will drink your essence and possess your sight.
Cackling laughter says he'll do it again;
Thousands more dead by the end of the night.

La folie d'une hache.
SadisticYellowBird SadisticYellowBird
18-21, F
May 5, 2012