My Darkest Dance

Calm, focused and concentrated,
I stand solid in what I hope is a strong serated stance...
Awaiting only my darkest dance,
Face only in horror of 42 screaming voices of sorrow.

Sometimes you whittness true darkness,
But nothing you do can break shadows so misty.
I'm writing this, not too make sense,
But only to share my thoughts that I may usually keep fenced.
It's my angry grip that gets me off,
It's not the pain I cause that sparks my NOS,
It's the skin of her neck being forced around my grip that quickens the beat of my heart causing my blood to spit.

Though her lifeless organs may be crusty with mould,
My intentions are still forcefull and cold.
Slice her feet, my sharp teeth dig into her meat so far and deep.
You may think that I'm weird,
But it's not me that's dreaming of my most feared.

Push your curiosity away,
This is a game that only the blood hungry can play.
Yet you disobey,
Letting your wandering mind lead astray.
"This mind isn't for the normal to run in, hop along before your chopped up in a bin".

Persuaded to write an ending,
Only if my mind accepts this tortured bending,
Can I remain stood still fighting and defending?

All of this...
...Is it all a big act forced upon me by the dark abyss?
Or is it the loathing sensation of forced penetration,
That leaves us surprised and stunned as an enslaved nation.

..`'Man¿Deyer`'.. ..