Something Inside – Dark Musing

Something Inside

 

With an exasperated sigh

She reaches for the sky

Tools lay scattered

Piled high at her feet

 

In a day that seemed long

She had plucked

from humanities throng

A person she deemed

worthy of the word

Perfection

 

The sight of her walk

Her manners

Her talk

A stunning beauty

that all took time to admire

 

Fair of complexion

A body that begged

for further inspection

Curvacious in all the right places

Ogled by numerous turned faces

Sights that would play alongside lust

in many of tonight’s colorful dream

 

A whisper in her ear

Could you help me my dear”

A moment’s attention was all that was needed

With use of chloroformed rag

her exquisite body suddenly sagged

Appearing like a faint

into the arms of a loved one

 

In the rear of the vehicle she lay

Drug effects holding her stay

A goddess motionless

in tight rope and restraint

 

Strapped to the emotionless table

not at all willing and able

to be part of an impromptu

and thorough investigation

Into the strange origins

of show stopping beauty

 

Be it strange that some

born with three thumbs,

cleft pallet,

or a birthmark in the shape of a country

Whilst others are blessed

Nothing but picturesque

Fit for naught but thoughts

filled with lust and the darkest of envy

 

Slicing flesh carefully

Sharp knife used deftly

Peeled back

the extremity of skin

Exposed rib cracked

With a heavy tool

thick and black

Displaying crimson organs

coiled tightly without string

 

Bone encasement is lifted

Through intestines

Vinyl clad hands sifted

Exploring for hidden wonders

Believed buried someplace within

 

No twinkle

No light

No aura in sight

Another beauty splayed open

in exhausting quest of the specific thing

An ageless anomaly that makes Gods sing,

and mortals fall to their knees in prayer

 

 

The aorta is severed

The heart is tethered

and put aside

for later culinary use

Next the bone saw

covered in cord

unwound it will feast

upon tender cranium

 

Luxurious locks

without love

are cut

and shorn off

Discarded like trash

as if out of season

 

Powerful whirr of steel blade

leaves a clear trail in its wake

and sends bone shrapnel in every direction

 

The skullcap lifts to display lurid dish

the beauties brains have now become

Nothing in here

That much is clear

Another cavity cleared in the search

 

A smile tilts the lips

Leading to laughter in fits

A wicked embalmer or

Mortician

She most defiantly is not

Though she is on a mission

With the main puzzle piece missing

One that’s very vital to the plot

Some would call her insane

She firmly believed finding the lost piece

would mean that she was not

 

Cult