The Trains run on time.

Every limb of mine is bound in the razor drawn edges of a painful nest of wires. These wound metal cords dig deep into my forearms, my thighs, and tight across my torso.

Dig deep, dig way deep baby. Twisted infected wire cuts my flesh. Trapped and scored and ripped apart.

Drawn hard against the bulkhead of an iron horse.

This cold and nasty engine shoves up against my back, rending me and shattering me against the forefront of a massive desiel train.

I am the screaming cryin wordless masthead of a post-apocolyptic engine that cannot be stopped.

I am the face and body pinned to a screaming steam releasing engine I am tied against.

Virgin Masthead. Dirty diesel engine. A hundred ton engine, hot and furious with anger as it roars along captivity.

Drawn and dragged agaisnt these cold and thick metal rails.

There is nothing I know but the inevitable doom that comes with me screeching along this straight line.

Faster it moves, louder it screams. harder it pushes.

I am pinned agaisnt the rage of a past tearing into a future.

This train tightens against me. Bones shatter and flesh tears.

This is the end I'm looking for. My eyes dead and bright and horrified against the future of the next few miles of a cold path.

Stretched farther against my anatomy than I deserve.

I am ripped apart. Decisions are made, these things are out of my control. I'm going to do more than just die, I'm going to have my body stretched against a screaming death made of a locomotive.

I am just a figure head, and I will pull into the next station, my tattered remains mouthing weak words...

"Run. Run while you can. Do not have my fate."

The whistle will blow. The train will leave the station.

And these cars will be moist and wet and hot.

Full of victims that never should've came aboard.
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Let Sleeping Girls Lie.

Come to me, let me be my worst. Will you let me be this man you've mistaken me for this monster? Will you confuse one for the other...?

Behold, take note, amplify and serenade.

You see me as the monster you think I can be. Allow me the freedom to sink deep into my heart and let me kill everything around me.

...

My bed is full of gentle love, of women in pain and torment. Souls alseep and ready for slumber.

I crawl across them. They breathe deep of my poisonous desire. My thick hands find their throats.

Allow me to choose one, allow me to find your bidding.

One must die so one must live. Choose. Who lives, who dies? Is it in you to make this horrible decision?

Rough hands of twisted bone and sinew tighten against soft and gentle throats.

They sleep soundly, lost in beautiful dreams.

Let me end them where they lie.

Who is the monster here? How demands this failed justice?

Someone dies tonight. Which of us?

Choose. Make your decision.

Make the call.

Be there.

Live with the consequences.

...

Will there be the right way? I will never know. I am just the weapon in your hand. I am just your finality.

This is yours, it can never be mine.