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My Body sink in formalin

My spirit walks in sin

My thirst for innocent souls

I satisfy in the morgue.

The poor man chosen me

and got my body out

my blind eyes looked him

my spirit was behind

His tremulous hands upon me

was holding shining scalpel

and senseless torn my torso

to get my innards out.

I wandered around the man

Making him to feel and see again

I put my immaterial hands on him

Whisper howling words so grim

The Man lost his scream

His eyes was so white

the scare filled his veins

The man collapsed

The scalpel hit the heart

but not without my help

His blood was hot and fresh

It wet my grey skinny flesh

Sublime satisfaction

my ghost was so calm

the victim’s body was here

next to main in formalin