Flesh Most Foul

Sewing skins of corpses Fresh from the hunt Upon my own flesh To hide what I've become Nothing left to judge me When I look at the blood Pooling at my feet From what I have done Skin begins to tear As I continue forward Conjoined limbs and hair Only push me towards Self-inflicted agony As I reject the truth That this flesh will someday Be of no use This flesh most foul Upon my body Never ending yearning To retry the beginning This flesh most foul Never stops itching An incessant groaning From underneath my loathing The skin keeps rotting The skin keeps rotting I try to hide my guilt Beneath this makeshift body The skin keeps rotting The skin keeps rotting The stench of my inaction Expunges my folly The skin keeps rotting The skin keeps rotting The putrefaction Will take over my body Amalgamated wishes The flesh upon my soul Will never come true As there is no more flesh Left to take