Taetre

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