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A sword clinches
Pity is dying in my heart
Dim shadows fall
Covering your body in darkness
Your refreshing blood
Moistens my throat
Your terminal scream still echoes
Within the walls
Of my emotionally stunted mind
Another victim
Of my hate
Of my bloodthirst
To satisfy a desolation
Beyond my thoughts
Now your cranium is a treasure
In my collection of memories
A swoosh clips
Play it in reverse it will become art
Going with flows of shadows falling
Emerging musculature
From depths of darkness
Being close to you is refreshment
A scream no one knows
Tear down walls
New dimensions
Of emotional stuntedness open
Another violator visitor
Boomerangs of hate
Pogo sticks of bloodthirst
Finding no stimuli
Beyond our mental capacities
Now this literary faecal matter
Is a source of
Laughter
In my collection of puberty blunders