Little Drops Of Murder Poem by Vision Ghost

Crushing broken nails deep inside my fists
Spreading the blood as visions turn to mists
Weeping inside my mind for what I can do
The gunshot wound I inflicted goes to blue

Awaiting lowly in an alley way after the rain
Moist beneath feet before I conduct my gain
Slowly this stalking has begun another night
Finding her wondering alone, alone her plight

Delicious in her innocence of her unknowing
As her sands in earnest are rapidly descending
I cry a little tear for what I shall always commit
Knocking her to the floor before hit after hit

Her broken body in another bloodied tsunami
Vision engrained as of her final sight of me
Stealing the life from the frenzy and the rage
This world as of my alter this city as my stage

When the blade ripped into the mortal flesh
Gifted into the passions of a murdering rush
Copper of wounds cleansed by the tongue
So discarded and wasted their bodies flung

Clasped hand over mouth in muffled scream
Drawing the blade back and forth supreme
As the blood jettisons to the floor in agony
All hope for them was so lost under tyranny

I know no thirst for the bleeding of my palms
Nor shall I be encouraged by unholy psalms
The prey of mankind and woman now asunder
For all of those delicate little drops of murder