Sculpted In Flesh

My works of art
they give me peace of mind
being creative in my spare time
I mutilate, then reform
it's all caught in my halls of gore
take a look, tell me what you see
there's a bouquet of dicks
where her head used to be
my favorite is the human spider-
a body with eight legs and four dicks
it's been removed of skin
and placed in my room
where every night I fuck it
I reenact the screams
in mounds of flesh
that visit me in my sleep
the beauty of death is hard to be seen
but it's captured in my great gallery
those who are blind are those who don't kill
take a man's life
look deep in his eyes
let the power overtake you as you kill
I can smell the decay of my past art
immediately I grab my stiff cock
slowly-
stabbing, ripping, grinding, clipping
the bodies that wander my way
I'm devouring the feces and the remains