My Undead Dolls

Gracefully flowing, like a butterfly in the sky,
taking twists and turns to fulfill it's life.
Numbing the pain while I sew your lips,
so helpful morphine is for my deadly acts that could be considered sin.
Your lips puckered up with strings all about,
let me kiss your healing scars darling so the pain will drown out.
I imagine you awaking without your tongue intact,
trying to scream or give yourself a heart attack.
You'll see me there, across the room in my study,
a book about Jack the Ripper, and reports on Yoo Young-chul, that are fascinating and stunning.
What beautiful acts some might think, but what can I say,
they can't compare to me.
I keep my prizes nicely cleaned, making them coffins and I'll give them a daily routine.
Janet over there in coffin 3 screamed until she couldn't hear,
so just for her I play the piano everyday,
just so her busted eardrums can listen to my beautiful vibrations that sync into a melancholic plague.
Joseph over in coffin 7 tried so hard to reunite with the love of his life,
he was a preacher, a poet at that,
every word slipping from that mouth was made into art, but too bad.
I got him and take care of him now, reading to him my own poems so I can feel just as proud.
You're going to be my next friend my young Isabel,
your nice soft skin like velvet puts me into a spell.
But I promise when you lay in coffin number 13,
it'll feel just like home, and I'll lye next to you brushing your cheeks.
And as if I was your daddy, reading fantasy tales,
and I'll stroke your decaying skin until I hit your bones.
Together we'll all make friends and can enjoy my basement,
this basement we all call home.
You'll never get lonely, even if I'm gone.
If I get caught, it must be because of something going wrong.
But I've set you all up in here to play together, forever in death we will never part.
The judge may call me sick and twisted but even so I can't help but feel I'm doing wonderful pieces of art.
I've felt the urges for so long now telling me to do these things,
but soon I'll be walking the earth with all of my precious dolls and nothing will ever come between all of my killing sprees.
For now as ghosts, we will all hold hands.
There are no strings attached other than the ones to our hearts,
and that red string of fate has brought us all down,
our hearts on the floor after the police have searched,
but now it's just too late and we've all been cursed.