There once was a man, as so remembering,
that resorted to a form of morbid coping.
Indeed, quite macabre in recalling.
You see his thoughts were all so troubling,
with his brain continually sizzling;
with all the secrets he was keeping;
but now the anger was no longer sleeping.
As he sat at his desk, oh so pondering,
to the nasty task to which he was resorting.
At the feverish thoughts, with his fingers wrapping,
it was the blade that he was still fondling.
That made the actions all start kindling.
It all began with the skin's slight slicing,
and the disturbed release, with now a smirking.
Then another with a deeper cutting,
and now at last, a sign of bleeding!
And as he saw, he kept on watching,
"Oh this sight! So truly amazing!".
He sat and relished every drop that was coming;
it was ecstacy, so satisfying!
The crimson hue, so appealing;
the metal stained, so entrancing;
the cold's slight touch, so enthralling;
the blood's new flavor, so tempting....
and he sat there, pain engorging;
it began as such: a slight tasting;
then as so: the newest craving;
the iron's taste: for what he's raving!!!!!!!
And rave, began with a smiling;
from a mind, oh so darkening;
then it hatched, with a faint giggling.
He took the blade, and so he went prying;
the biggest veins, with the most blood letting.
He furthered along, and now was laughing;
it appeared that this is where sanity was breaking.
And so it fell, with a silent shattering; and not ever with, a healthy passing.
He continued his work, he saw so captivating;
it was his own weakness he was fighting.
He sat and bled and cut while ranting,
"This is God's work I'm doing;
with all the evil that I'm killing;
it seems it's only me I'm hurting!"
And towards the end, it was a yelling;
but more and more it was still growing.
"All the filth I'm purifying;
it feels so good to be cleansing;
at least all my errors are ending!"
He felt as though, it was a wrong he was righting;
with all the blood, now just puddling.
And so the tension kept on building;
oh so much pleasure, with what he was sating.
His veins were strewn, the blade now just carving;
to all the mutilation, it was amounting.
And suddenly, it began quieting;
eventually reaching a whispering;
his rave became, all just mumbling.
And suddenly, he felt freezing;
he knew for sure, there was no running.
He felt a hand, so coldly caressing;
and with it his consciousness, began lowering.
Was he fainting?
No, it was much more daunting;
in an entire affair oh so haunting.
He still felt as though he was falling;
and yet he wasn't sure, where he was going.
He couldn't say, what he might've been seeing;
nor did he remember, what he was feeling. But he does remember, all of the screaming;
all around, and forever echoeing.
The ghastly product, of what he was hearing;
a sign that is, oh so damning;
it was the next he felt, all the clawing;
and with every touch, the damned gouging.
Oh but his sight, oh so horrifying!
Maybe escape, yes escaping!
If only he could go alighting;
but yet he doesn't see any lighting...
But instead the screams come thundering;
for which before, he would've been applauding.
And as he heard, they came enclosing;
the newest soul for all their stalking;
as he sat hopelessly praying;
for the futile plea, of mercy saving.
He fled away, from the undead's calling;
and as they reached, they gave a greeting;
the greeting of a necromancer's wanting;
of the loudest sound of their teeth gnashing;
and then the flesh began tearing;
but still had not finished all the clamoring;
the gruesome sight, was them devouring.
The damned, and their smelling;
made him experience what he was fearing;
which was just his soul decaying;
with scattered bits from all the fraying.
And so then with the sun rising;
showing the next day arriving;
and the discovery that very morning.
With his death, all now dawning;
and about the town there was chattering;
about the man's horrific mutilating;
and all the distress he had been showing.
What could've possibly been happening?
This is the story that I am telling;
of what happened on that evening;
about a man, whom I knew too well;
about a man, who went to Hell.