Willingly he did come to me
A sacrifice, victuals he would be
In this house, condemned to stay
I cut him, took his phallus away
Watched as he slowly bled to death
Oh, I anticipated that final breath
For his body to go limp, so weak
I hung him by a hook like meat
Licked the skin, so sweet the taste
Not even an ounce would I waste
Piece by piece hacked him apart
Bloody hands ripped out his heart
His flesh I did so very much crave
Bones were buried in a shallow grave
In the backyard, never to be found
The stench of death is still around
I felt no regret, no, not in the least
For one year, upon him I did feast
* Based on stories I have read about cannibal Armin Meiwes
Tags: Poetry, poems