The Creature

A mutilated body, with numerous dislocations,
An eternal luxation, from the soul to the mind,
Tremendous deformities and unbearable dread and discomfort,
And not a soul will ever know.

It's face, so disturbing, so exposing, and endlessly rotting,
What is this face, which hides every trace?
It's third blank eye, fully white, with no signs of life,
What is this eye, this spherical black-hole that ***** me in,

I spend my final moments gazing in the eyes of this creature,
contemplating the grisly claustrophobic terror of knowing that this is the end,
In absolute darkness, I shall everlastingly think about the macabre irony,
that someone had caused this creature immense pain, so it now looks like this.

And now whoever gazes upon the portrait of this body, will have to succumb to the horrifying suicidal influence,
due to unforeseen circumstances, i shall finally **** myself by looking at this creature who i call "me"