by Nick Gisburne
Surging, swirling tides of death
Unrelenting waves of pain
Cold, the jagged killing knife
Separates the soul from life
Ruptured heart and screaming brain
And a final, wretched, ragged breath
Twisting, sickly strands of breath
Fade before the face of Death
Wicked claws compress the brain
Squeezing one more ounce of pain
Calmly, Death collects the life
Leaves behind the body, and the knife
She, the one who grips the knife
Draws a sharp and tainted breath
Holds no more regard for life
Than a raindrop for its death
But the tastes of fear and pain
Fill the empty corners of her brain
Dark, this grim assassin’s brain
Wills her hand to touch the knife
Knows her only drug is pain
Schemes to steal another’s breath
Plans a sudden, savage death
Murder is the meaning of her life
Every squalid, slaughtered life
Burns the cancer in her brain
Leads her to the House of Death
Where the jagged killing knife
And the quickness of her breath
Feed the foul addiction that is pain
Terror, torment, panic, pain
Tools to end a victim’s life
Ice and evil chill each breath
Tortured nightmares plague her brain
Tenderly, she lifts the knife
Prays before she carves the smile of death
“Lord of Pain, free my brain
Take my life, guide the knife
Hear my breath, all I am I offer you in death”
