Cellar Dweller

If only you had known, not to knock upon my door.
I invite you in, sit you down, and a drink for you - I pour.
You start to tell me why you're here, I interrupt and say:
"I've got something that you have to see, just follow me this way."

I lead you to the cellar, where I perform my operations.
To show you what I plan to do, among my obligations.
You start to look around, as your heart begins to pound.
Not a word escapes your lips, your scream emits no sound.

A dozen dead babies, jarred up on a shelf,
A sight that could sicken the devil himself.
On a table before you, rests a lamb's rotten head,
Blood-soaked and severed, a shrine to the dead.

As you kneel down to vomit, I see a sacral opportunity;
As my body's overtaken by Satan's importunity.
I approach you from behind, and grab you by the hair,
With a single swing the deed is done, your death I do declare.

Your head and body unaligned, with an axe I separated -
Your lifeless body flops around; dead and decapitated.
I drill a hole into the skull, a perfect perforation;
Then drain the brain into a bowl, for my ingurgitation.

Dragging your body up to the kitchen,
To consume what is left, my atrocious intention.
Removing the skin, flesh hung up to dry.
Preserving the entrails in formaldehyde.
Cutting through muscle and meat with a cleaver,
Storing the most precious parts in the freezer.

Cooking up limbs in a cast iron skillet.
Empty, my stomach - proceeding to fill it.
I feast on the flesh, biting through to the bone.
A sick twisted nightmare, so real it has grown.