I feed on the pain

that I inflict.

At first I killed a cat

and then it clicked.

Killing what lives

is my fate.

If it breathes, it dies

at any rate.

I use all the tools

that I can find.

I poke and I gouge

I make them blind.

I cut and I beat

with all my might.

I love the screams

they’re my delight.

What I really crave

is to bathe in their blood.

I dream of a stream,

a river, a flood.

I prey on the kind

‘cause they don’t fight back.

Then it’s easier for me

to give them a whack.

I enjoy going hunting

hiding among trees,

Firing a rifle

at an animal that flees.

My hunger for death

is never satisfied.

I tried to abstain

but then I cried.

My basement is full

and so are my walls,

With torture devices,

trophies, eyeballs.

I also keep skulls,

their teeth and their feet

Slashing their throats,

the sound is a treat.

My passion for killing

cost me my wealth.

But I needed to go on

for my mental health.

And then I found a job

at an abattoir,

Employee of the year

no one’s on par.

I really love my job,

I even get paid

To do what I love

to murder by trade.

Ending this rhyme

In a line or two,

I’ve run out of time

I’ve got more killing to do.