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The Saint
The sounds! The sounds!
The hounds! The hounds!
From where do they come? ee-gadz!
The yelps and howls
That come from their jowls
To my ears are deep, dark stabs.
Wine dark trickles
Hot between my knuckles
-My comfort whilst I wait.
But I'm still hard at work,
My duty I'll ne'er shirk
To leave, and spoil the hounds' bait!
As I point and slice
I'll take great care
And pride in my work, and smile.
For those barks and yelps
They are no help
To steady my hand in this pile.
Of flesh I know
Both science and soul,
Since both animate men and women.
But running blood
Is what warms my hands
And heart -Oh!, they were so willing...
To die, to feed
This necromancer's soul,
It was a wish ‘pon their once parted lips.
Such women in pain,
Souls not liberated in vain,
Sinful bowels removed from their hips.
But, the hounds’ breath grows nearer,
And I've finished yet another.
This tart, she was so young.
She needed a lover
To drip blood above her,
Yea, this saint's work again is done.
Essence, I Googled™ the phrase and found nothing. I certainly had no intent to extract any line from His Lordship's writings, but if I have, I hope he will not hold it against me!
My intent of that line was to convey the perpetrator's comfort in the warm blood as a contrast to the cold-hearted acts he is committing, and perhaps the only intimacy he allows himself, perhaps stemming from childhood alienation, which is another discussion about his motivation.
Anyway, before I end up writing a novel or something, thanks for likening it to Shakespeare, but I am afraid I don't rise to the complement.
i love this.
i have a very good feeling that this line is Shakespearean:
"My comfort whilst I wait"
if it is shakespearean, can you tell me from which play it came from? i have a good feeling that it is from romeo and juliet