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Perhaps soon they will hear the not so gentle drip drip
Of the overflowing bath with both taps set to pour fast
It will flow across the floor and soak through ceilings
Maybe just a gentle splash on a head so finally at last
One of them will make the reluctant effort
To rouse them self and climb up that stair
To investigate that bathroom mess
And see me standing waiting there
It maybe that man
Or even his wife
But we don't care which
Me and my hungry knife
And we will feed on them so lovingly
I want their last conscious sight
To see my face reflected in the mirror
On their last living night
I want see their horror
As knife lovingly cuts throat
And life just bleeds away
Like a sacrificial goat
Some struggle so hard
Some just accept and sigh
But for me and my little knife
They all finally just die
Next day I will tremble with revulsion
Yet fully knowing that all too too soon
My little knife will hunger
At the next full moon
For we each have
Our own special need
Which only spilled blood
Will satisfactorily feed
Then creeping through moonlit alleys
Completely keeping out of human sight
Searching always searching for an entry
To fully complete this very special night

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