thoughts of a madman

the depth and of the steel,
the sharpness of the blade,
the gushing of her blood,
upon my face, and i`m glad.

the twist and the turn,
the feel of her organs,
rip apart get torn,
i smile, a dream complete of months.

i raise it high,
i raise it low,
i raise it fast,
i raise it slow.

her eyes open,
with just a sliver of life,
i smile, again,
plunging down; my steel knife,
again and again.