Hands

The man who holds the hands

is the one who holds the knife 

tied and bound she makes no sound

Do you want your life?

Perfection very precise 

So many cuts to make 

what a pretty bride

Her breath very heavy 

Her heartbeat dear to me

I plunge the metal object not once

But many times you see

My bride was dressed 

in white my hands 

Have turned her red

Blue eyes gloss over 

one final tear

Her last emotion I guess

One final chapter to complete 

A kiss upon her lips

Blood kisses are so quaint 

My bride beautiful so dead

Masterful hands have I

Never to be caught 

Her head will stay

As I chop away

This obsession 

Just won't stop 

So if lost or can't 

seem to find your way 

He will tell you don't worry 

Please sit and stay

But once your in

The heads of them in turn 

look straight away 

The hands will strike again 

A wedding dress you'll wear 

The blood will flow

Your head he'll show

Above the fireplace