Bloodlust


There is a man within me, somewhere,
However the urge for blood is too much,
Turning me into a savage beast,
Wanting only to kill, and to drink.

It's all about the chase,
To have your prey flee, while you follow,
So sure of their fate,
Yet reveling in their effort to avoid it.
For there is no fun in having your meal served bound and gagged on a plate,
It is adrenaline you want, adrenaline you need,
For it is the spice of life,
Making the blood run sweeter.

I have a passion for life,
Not in living it, but in taking it away,
In watching it drain from the eyes of my victims,
Slowly, yet surely,
Through torture, through torment,
Their screams of agony, music to my ears.

I will not let them die.
The longer they linger, the greater I feel,
Watching the sweat pour down their face,
Ragged breaths making chests heave,
Still I will not feed of them, will not taste their wares,
But only take a sample, a measure of what is to come.

My victim is but a toy, a plaything,
With which to fulfill myself,
Leaving me in a euphoric state,
Knowing their life is in my trust,
To do with as I wish, as I please,
But one bite to end it all.

Yes there is a man within me,
For it is the man who makes me take pleasure in what I do.