Hollow Point

Devious secret acts
The blood silent on hands
Precious enhancement of sickened sense
Expands and contracts
My routine
The natural act of my lust

Misanthropy eclipsed by dark days of self-hates
The social strain and all the scum we are makes me hate myself

Expunged humanity as roaming predator
Leading the dephts of shadows
Shining hard on repulsive action
Ethical violation, murder the morality

Shining instruments in the orchestra of death
Screams my agonized symphony
In the machines of night and psychical space
For random bodies fall on my blade
My secret desire
I will lead
Thoughts sharp as a machete
Reality is now lost
Evil is born
My acts of horror separated from morality

All around faceless beings on which I force myself
A dance of aggression accepted into the fold
With my rotting collection of death
My wrath and internal hatred drives me
The Brood await, my deadly wrath