Games

LEDDRAIN

Steely eyes burning turning pale black

The hyperactive sadistic maniac emerges

Steely eyes are locked on coming back

To dry sad and lonely lost perversion

Salty sweat bringing sweetend tears

Pain is a virtue its sacrifice feared

Derailing and pretending its innocence

Bare sored muscles flex without pretence

Accepting the consolation of the leather whip

Seeking comfort that is locked in a lightless pit

Flesh eating sexual lust is found more than abundant

Still, ultimate destructions´ climax remains redundant

Seeking to lift out from the gasping tidal wave

Of self pity that is happily holding hands with graves

As self-indulgence is more resourceful

Lying bent over its own vomiting head

Arrogance is in bed with the has been beautiful

Ceasing to realise she is rotten and dead

The sadistic maniac is growing frail and old

His mind is burnt his body has already been sold

All the lovely girl that once adored him

For he granted all their dreams and the tiniest whim

Now his bed has turned moldy shades of grey

Now the little girls are going completey insane

Realising all that they have exchanged

So many lost hours just for hollow games

Now trading empty games for lonely hours

Abusing their souls for the bloodied lust for power

They hang there disfigured and broken

No one is looking and no one is mistaken

Steely eyes close exhausted from tears

Suicidal but still the deed whispers fear

The bruised masochistic maniac emerges

Seeking the pain in forgotten perversions

Lounging beneath the sweet slashing of the whip

Seeking comfort that is lost in a lightless pit

All this fashion show would be twice as beautiful

If it were cut into pieces splashing from a chainsaw

Pornographic displays of stiff untouchables

Roasting over an open fire their meat bloody and raw

While the greatest banquet seated yet filled with fools and knaves

Are contently drooling blood chewing on razorblades

Seems a queasy feeling of smelling a rotting corpse here

Changes to tantalising delight it´s all so flowery nice here

Hiding seated in the darkest corners of each mind

In that lightless dungeon it has always been blind

Copyright: Philip Seibel