“Just Another Kill” – Poetry

Poetry excerpt from Demonic Lulladies.

© S.B. “LullaDIEs”

As if he were a baby from a nursery,
My victim cries and begs for mercy.

The concept however is absurd,
I do not know the meaning of the word.

Why should I care if they live or die?
What part of my life do they gratify?

Of what importance are they to me?
Why should I listen to this man’s plea?

Why can’t I tell the difference between wrong and right?
The answer is the same night after night,

They have no importance, so I don’t care if they die.
I relax my shoulders and take a long sigh,

Then look up and down the alley.
I really shouldn’t dally,

Out on the street there was a crowd,
No witnesses are allowed.

When satisfied no one is watching,
I turn, a hand on my head and scratching.

I stare intensely at the wimpering coward,
Over his toppled form I tower.

He clings to the brick wall for protection he will not recieve,
One this, the darkest of all eves,

Without stars shining for the wishers.
Raising my jagged, double-edged knife I whisper,

Please dont scream, this will only hurt a little bit.
I’d appreciate it if you didn’t throw a fit

Then I plunge down into the soft flesh.
The blood sprays warm, sticky, and fresh.

I giggle like a wild banshee,
The horrid joy returns as always when I see,

The dark thick blood that flows almost black,
Causing me to lick my lips with a smack.

I smell the death, and am instantly seduced.
I kneel down to fill an empty bottle with the fresh juice,

As the corpse slouches against a dumpster.
Gone is his previous life and luster.

I take a few sips, my senses highten,
The world, it seems, begins to brighten.

The demon half of me rejoices in this new kill,
The hunt and the always present thrill,

And the sweet blood running through my body.
All of this makes me feel morbidly godly.

I walk away as calmly as I arrived, not looking back.
Disappearing into the night, the void of black.

I decide to catch the next max train,
Looking for someone else to drain,

Going nowhere, living nowhere.
Existing in perfect solitaire.

Starting to feel a little thirsty I take out the bottle,
Slowly, so the woman next to me does not startle,

Sip. Sip.
Sip. Sip.

They’re just another face,
I happened to erase.

Just another victim,
Deleted from the spectrum.

Just another coward,
I hungrily devoured.

Just Another Kill,
Executed for the thrill.


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