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Murdertron

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Step upon the Murdertron my dear

And be whisked away to heady delight

A fright, a shock and final glance

No chance, escape will fail

Hunted down and stabbed, you'll feel

Every penetration, very scrape of metal on bone

Every bleeding slit, heat ebbing away

Things going black

And you're back in the room

 

The Murdertron my dear is sweet,

A most macabre, shocking treat

Just step right up, and meet your doom

For just five minutes of your afternoon

Live out your darkest fantasies

Of rape and murder, darling please

You can satisfy your victim's crave

A pound a go, or just for you

Because I like you as I do

The first one's free, what will you choose

Your life, your dignity to lose?

Perhaps your soul, in a twisted deal?

Maybe your children we will steal?

A murdered spouse, the tragedy?

Succumbing to a malady?

The Murdertron my dear is sweet

A dark ambrosia of devil's teat

 

We've been around the country far

Left many scars, caused much pain

Insane, the weak left in our wake

No guarantees we make, you might enjoy

Rather the Simulated Hugger,

Than the virtual rapist/mugger

But you, I see it in your eyes, you wish

to die, to know true pain, to suffer once

and then again, to feel the knife, the blunted club

the beatings, sodomy and blood

You want it now, you want hard

And with one swipe of your credit card

The Murdertron will set you free

And a tragic victim you will be

 

Of course, you may ask "Why pay me?"

For what you can obtain for free

I offer not a single guarantee

Why not seek your doom down some alley

Dressed with a target on your back?

I offer only simulation, why hold back

the full sensation? Why not suffer actually?

True pain is given out for free.

That may be true my dear but hear me out

For think, who might come to your rescue

when you shout? You will, you can not help yourself

Those last moments take over.

 

The Murdertron, is simple, sleek

It does not matter just how weak, how pitiful

is your resolve, your willingness to die

When you scream for the Murdertron, you scream for me

And I'll not come to set you free. You'll die there, in that hell

You'll get what you paid for, a pound a go

to know only what the dead can know

and when your session's done

You'll know, you'll know which one

Reality or fiction, has the better price

 

So victim's come to victims be

The Murdertron will set you free

The first one's free and then you pay

a pound a go to die today.

The End
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Author guidance for This poem

darkliquid Archi Teuthis has inspired me to try my hand again at poetry after many years having left it alone.

I tend to rarely follow any poetry conventions consciously and tend to write with a heavy use of metaphor that probably only I get. I also like to hide snippets of extra information relevant to the subject matter in my poems.

To be honest, I don't think anything I write makes much sense or is any good even though I once had a poem of mine published (which ironically I hated, thinking it one of my worst ever poems).

Feel free to provide criticism and advise or to ask what the hell I'm writing about.

P.S. Oh, the title This Silent Tirade is also that of the first poem in case it's not obvious.

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