Dedman’s Morbid Mausoleum Of Dark Poetry: Murder Whispered In My Ear…

Dedman’s Morbid Mausoleum Of Dark Poetry: Murder Whispered In My Ear…




“The cold table remains forever open to all and is a muse for my darkened artistic lucidity,
A pact made with the Devil allows for my playthings to fester as in kicks their rigidity;
Oh how fragrant the stench of rot is to the senses and beautiful are the marks of lividity,
So many questions as to how they have arrived at their ending and what caused this morbidity;

Layer of dermis displaced and muscle past rigor are moved to show the grisly verity of fatality,
Manner and method of their expiration can be benign or sweet violence of the utmost brutality;
Many wonder about the ingredients and malicious intentions of homicide and its lasting lethality,
For eons the masses had visions of being forever but weep upon the ending of their mortality;




Fear not as I find the reasons for your passing and I prepare your body for its final destination,
The tools of my trade are sharp and precise as I cut and stitch with an almost unreal application;
There is certain glee to the machinations of my hands that some see as butchery and mutilation,
When mourners come to pay respects there are few who can’t help but admire the preservation;

The question will remain as to whether your death was natural or was it forcefully abducted,
In the casket you will take your final walk as the march towards the grave can’t be obstructed,
Whether to the gates of Heaven or Hell only you and I know as the final rights are conducted;
All that I know is that I have done what the voices in my head whispered to me as instructed…”




Posted by Dedman

Writer for House of Tortured Souls website, Coffin Cuties & Digital Dead Magazines, Podcast Host for The Calling Hours & Owner of Slit of the Wrist Fx

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