Festival of Blood

A continuation of sorts of ‘A bloody legacy‘.

Sirens in a cacophony around me,
Spotlights hunting me,
Police sharks around me,
Chomping at the bit for me.
They can’t have me,
Not here,
This place is part of my legacy,
This bloodbath is sacred,
These corpses are relics,
A holy site.

To my sanctum i must go.
I’ll be safe here from those police-shaped monsters,
Those blasphemous curs,
This sanctum is my chapel,
My playground,
My hideout,
My home.

Previous rituals and games reside here,
Corpses and bloodshed,
Gore and bones,
Intestines and brains,
This glorious scene is my festival of blood,
Another chapter of my bloody legacy.

That one crucified to the wall there?
A famous actress.
The one hung from the rafters with his eyes and tongue missing?
A vile politician.
The one with his head missing and back broken?
A treasonous teacher.
And the one here with an acid-bathed throat?
A simple babysitter.

All stalls in this festival,
Celebrations to my brilliance,
Hymns to a master serial killer.
The media will love this,
Love me,
They’ll spread my splendor,
To further masses.

What?!
A crash?
The police-shaped monsters are coming it seems.
Let them come.
Let them bear witness to my work.
The Festival of Blood is open.