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What Have I Become

Nuctemeron


My anger must be supressed
As I wake in a fit of rage
For that I take it out on a child
No more than seven years of age
Her flesh so pale
Her virginity so pure
She could never imagine
The pain she will endure
Fucking her repeatedly
She's become my little whore
Though God even knows
I'm in search of more

I've sighted an elderly man
Lying crippled in his chair
What will become of him
He is so unaware

So very old
With no sense at all
A mere obstacle
He too will fall

Grabbing a sledge
I cave in his head
As his lungs collapse
He gasps his last breath
Ripping flesh till all but bones are gone
My work here is finished
I now will move on

I come upon another victim
An expecting mother
I put my arms around her neck
We struggle with each other

Though she soon
Will come to learn some
Respect, as I pull her head back
I slice her fucking neck

Leaving her to die
Send her to her tomb
Now I may rip
Her unborn child from her womb
Taking it as my own
I no longer have resistance
As I brutally beat and sodomize the bloody infant
Holding it up in recognition
In that I've already won
Though sometimes I find myself wondering
What have I become?

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