In my waxen world, stands still frozen like flies trapped in amber One perfect moment preserved, ere the kill atrocities transfixed in horror's chamber
Poetry without motion, stranded midstream Waxen in this dark drama of the macabre Mouths agape with terror but to scream No death rattle heard, nor sors
I am preserver of life my morbid art For each was truly alive from the start So if the eyes seem to follow your as you gawk Know that in the eyes of the dead, in their shadow you
Cadavers in wax as their lives buried away preening puppets to perform in the scenes that I play Features cast in the moment of preserved How they screamed as they met with fates well deserved
Recreating the horror of the moment of My serve their purpose quite well Embalm their bodies in wax, their dying breath the fluids to stave off the smell
Like dolls that dance to their own funeral They play out their scenes interminably As prized their exhibits in my dark They their secrets only to me
Life eternal in wax was their decree Suffering for my art, they to me So when eyes lock with your gaze unflinchingly at death or turn away fast
Skin blistered and softened as it was coated and sealed Another preserved puppet to prance on the that I play The fear ensnared in their captive I've trapped and memorialized in wax well-woven and wrapped
So sit still in place at the end of the blade By my design, hand find you just out of reach Another player in this deathly silent that I have made of sound, fury or motion, sense, movement or speech
Awaiting a terminus that will come a marionette bound by my strings Trussed in this tomb of wax, your here is not done For time does not quite end all
This is my life's work, this still, silent A to the fear frozen in a cold, waxen face care not to stare into their eyes, whatever you do When you look deep into death, it back into you too
Flesh bubbled and scalded, as molten bath washed life away Wax covered my prey piece for my prizing, recast in my mold Features harden and set as the wax grows stiff and