The Undertaker
Hes cold-hearted and stoic to a fault-
He oft' appears at ones front door...!
Dressed in black for hidden attack...!
'Tis evil to his very core;
He always leaves his calling card...
Its printed in blood tinged red...! !
Hes the Undertaker with blue-veined wired hands...
Complete with 'delusions of grandeur' in his head;
To say that he is cruel or sinister---
Well, honestly that would be speculation---
But you know there are hints of his malice and maddness...
In words-cleverly buried in sublimation;
For its told he will curse the ground that you walk on...! ! !
Set spells of his magic deemed ever so black...
Seems death 'tis his most fervent destination--
Found in the morbitity of much garnered fact;
The graveyard 'tis his home away from home...! !
Where headstones share many a grotesque tale...
For hes the Undertaker with the blue-veined wired hands...! ! !
And oft' the very last in the coffins final nail;
For in the deep maddness of his cerebrum---
Lies a deep-rooted tendency towards 'blood-lust'...! ! !
He is an ego-centric-dangerous psychopathic deviant...
Spawned 'neath the center of the Earths most hardened crust;
June 5,2010
poem by Theodora Onken
Added by Poetry Lover
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