fauxcroft

I can’t help but wonder

What it is that is under,

Your alchemy

Your spellbound curse,

That causes you to hurt men

Whenever they get close.

You ravage their heart and soul,

You consume them

And then just leave a hole,

Your beauty is only matched

By your savagery,

As you perform open heart surgery,

On those who dare to care

And those who dare to love you.

You are an enchantress indeed

And it is you that draws them in to feed

But in your blood lusting need

You drain them of everything.

You eviscerate them

And the you taste them

And then serrated their limbs,

Before you grated their skin,

Just so you could eat him.

They are paying for their unknown sins

Without knowing really anything,

Your issues are to many and to complex, 

Killing men is like a reflex,

To her, the Queen of the obscene

The Warrior of the rending spleens,

The most beautiful woman you will ever see,

Matched only by her vicious savagery

And when you discover how dangerous

She is, it will be too late,

Because you’ll be dead already,

And served on her plate,

Like oh, so many

For she has acquired a taste,

A taste for men.