The Fleshcrafter

It is now time for decay, it is now time for dismay,
Fear of all evil has now taken place,
Into the darkness the murderer waits
A sickened confession of life, Killed off with no chance to fight
Dismembering bodies with vile intent,
Piles are now forming and starting to stench

A necrophile he has become, Leaving them broken and numb,
Structures of flesh are now crafted with meat,
Another has died from a bloody defeat
Bleeding from holes in the skin, Shaving their faces begins
The place where the bodies are hung to remove,
The entrails and guts from the wide opened wounds

The sight is so thrilling to see the blood spilling
Insanity the Reality
A morbid indulgence in violent involvements,
Exhuming, consuming the flesh of the rotted

Decaying in torment the pain is surreal,
Fatality, Atrocity
Becoming a disfigured carcass he feeds,
Carving the flesh, The killer dissects
Collecting the bodies to dwell with the blood
Shattering bones, Creating his throne

Conquering Flesh....The Fleshcrafter skins,
Taking their lives...A mass genocide
Becoming the feared...He rises up high
Deepening madness...A victim now dies

It is now time for disorder, It is now time for a murder,
Suffering victims are tortured and slaughtered,
Nightmares are real in this world of disorder
Showing his victims the light, By cutting their throats with a knife
Visions of horrid obsessions unfold,
Stitching together the pieces behold