The Measures I Would Take

Today is the day of the dead,
And I have this uncontrollably huge urge to chop off someone’s head.
My lust for spilt blood was a dire need.
The measures I would take to see my victim bleed…

As I set off into the crisp dark night,
The air was cold and frigid, missing the smell of fright.
I declared a teenage girl as my next victim.
Oh, the measures my bare hands would take to cease them

She was a lone walker, straying under the dim pole lamp.
The thought of her blood, dripping from her decapitated head, made my stomach cramp,
With a desire to feel the thick metallic on my exposed hands.
God dammit, the measures I would take to have my hands differ from the bland,

Dry skin that irked with a feeling to kill,
I proceeded towards the lone child, there is no “I will not.” But there is an “I will.”
Pulling out a thick kitchen knife, I feel into step with her.
Man, the measures I would take. “Hello young sir.”

The girl looked upon me like I was crazy.
She was no sir but this said caused her state to be confused, a little hazy.
Before she could retort, I grabbed a hold of her great mane.
Fuck! The measures I would take! Should I start with the heart or the brain?

Her screams filled the silent night as I cackled.
I held her tightly bound by human shackles.
As one held her hand, the other brought up the knife.
Yes! The measures I would take to take away her life.

With one slow swipe, her neck burst with wetness.
One final scream left her lips and I laughed with madness.
Covering my hand over her soaked wound,
Agh! The measures I would take to have my nose attuned.

I smile a wicked smile of evil,
Filled with nothing good and everything medieval.
Licking the girl from her cheek and above, I walked away.
The measures I would take to just watch her decay.

Once again, I set off into the night,
The air was cold and frigid, but held the smell of iron and fright.
I seeked out my new hostage as if an eager lion.
Oh, the measures I will take to experience a feeling so satisfying.