The Pentacle Star

Cast down in mortal disguise
Belittles himself among the pagans
With razor sharp precision
He carves another prize of death
Not willing to hear pathetic pleas for life
Thought to all in life as kind
Surgical seduction, he lifts the gleaming blade
To taste the tainted blood of desire
Embedding the blade into harlot flesh
Not willing to hear pathetic pleas for life
Theme
Strategically placed mutilation
He shall then complete the pentacle circle
He’s been never caught nor found
A grave sickness, never to be equaled