Bring Your Slaughter To The Daughter


What does one do when their progeny strays
when the fruit of their loins begins to display
a thirst for fresh meat a craving for cruor
an unhealthy desire to inhabit the sewer


This father was open to such vile suggestion
as he wished to assist his daughter’s digestion
what started with steaks soon turned to raw flesh
and offal so putrid it would make most men wretch


Each day a fresh victim was thrown on the platter
no seasoning needed or requisite batter
just flesh from the bones with gristle remaining
no need for slow roasting she wasn’t complaining


He shoveled it in with no need to prepare
and kept dragging carcasses back to her lair
she licked every femur, consumed each last scrap
twas little more ghastly than the stench of her crap


She wouldn’t be choosy or mindful of weight
so long as more body parts dropped on her plate
fresh eyeballs just plucked like lychees she sucked
used ribs to floss out any food that got stuck



A flurry of mouthwash wouldn’t freshen this palate
too much rancid flesh tenderized by his mallet
he’d created a monster his child was unruly
but despite her faults he still loved her duly


This couldn’t go on and began to see sense
he had to destroy her his guilt was intense
the net was now closing too many left clues
300 lost souls was too many to lose


Each cadaver donated, each hors d’eouvre he plated
was never enough, appetite never sated
he’d given her life, now had to extinguish
all sentiment gone and duty relinquished


He chose his cruel tool and prepared for the slaughter
this vile wretched freak was no longer his daughter
one club to the head with a tear in his eye
distressing no blessing in seeing her die


He sat by her corpse for a week maybe longer
in a state of deep loss with no will to grow stronger
ironically starving amidst so much meat
for this vegan there was simply nothing to eat




Truly, Clearly, Really, Sincerely,

Keeper of the Crimson Quill

Copyright: Crimson Quill: Savage Vault Enterprises 2013




  1. “Each day a fresh victim, every morning a platter,
    No seasoning needed or requisite batter.
    Just flesh from the bones, with gristle remaining,
    No need to slow roast, she wasn’t complaining’
    My favorite part. Awesome!

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