The Art - Taetre

Stringed puppets dancing,

Drawing flies to the stench

Flesh impaled with wires

Sick, amusing, painful play

Imagination, evisceration

A morbid show

With blood on the wall

Hear peoples call

Chant and applaud

Caged in mocked misery

And audience with bleeding taste

Pulling strings, open sores

Come in,

Come in and catch the art

Barbed wire, embracing like fire

Deforming architecture

Endless desires, clawing pyre

Like a living dissection

Closing ecstasy, a fevered burning plague

Temptations lost control,

Rips apart the victims whole

Artistic patterns remain

Like a puzzle in its chaos start

Flesh been ripped apart, satisfying the art