Poetry / A Homicidal Fantasy

The staircase winds beneath your feet,
you tread the steps internally.
Behind you, a door latches and locks.
Your choice has been made.
Bloodlust lurks in your braincells,
creeping about your nerve endings,
acting on the trigger finger.
You peer off the balcony,
and sigh at the scent of fresh terror.
Your lips thirst for reaction.
You hunger to obseve the dream fulfilled.
The canvas is laid out before you.
and you paint it with crimson
one life at a time.
In with a bullet, out with art.
This massacre is your masterpiece.
Up high, playing God with a rifle,
you reign above all else,
watching humanity squirm at your fingertips.
At last, your work is complete.
You stand satisfied atop your tower.
This is the planning stage
that you hope never takes place
outside of your head.

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Reviews

December 07, 2006

Zanladar

No. of Reviews	Overall Quality	Comment Followup
264	81.1% (37 votes)	19.8%

personal info reviewer stats

Age	Gender	Location	Last Login
30	M	Glendora, CA	September 30

Zanladar reviewed Version 1 - Read 100%% of the Item

The canvas is laid out before you.
and you paint it with crimson
one life at a time.
In with a bullet, out with art.
This massacre is your masterpiece

i absolutely love these lines. a horrific act can be so poetic. the ‘crazy’ killer’s acts are to them beautiful. awe inspiring – very nicely written poem – touch on that sadistic streak that lies within us all..the question ‘what if?’ those that review this with bad slander – still stare in amazment at car crashes, murders, etc. it’s in us all..