It wafted through the air,
Ash stained my hair,
Leaving grey dust on the floor,
The room was filled with gore,
A horrid stench coming from the remains,
Though it had a certain sweetness,
A corpse was there still in its chains,
I adjusted to the smell,
It satisfying a paining hunger in my soul,
Quieting the voices and constant muttering in my head,
I looked at my next victim,
Teid up, bloodied and broken
cowering in the corner,
Who was soon to be dead
YOU ARE READING
A Little Too Gruesome Perhaps?
شِعرThis is just some of my more gruesome poetry, a lot of the poems describing murder scenes. Read at your own risk
