Rupture:

Beggar child raped, my senses rupture.
Eaten alive by urban sharks.
Monstrous evil sheltered by fear,
My senses rupture.
With beaten brow and helpless limp
Striding through slime…
I am approached by a wizened pimp.
A fifty for my daughter, says he,
And your friend here can have her for free.
Fifty for a fuck is certainly a deal, says he,
Else she’ll have to fuck our landlord for free.
Saddened and sickened with a heart
That sinks to my knees,
I proceed to give the wretch a fifty.
Cheated of a service I rightfully deserve,
Clamped and pulsing blood threshing my scalp,
I tease my way through excrement.
A bulging manhood rises in me,
My senses rupture.
Fuck her I won’t, fuck them I will.
The thrill of the chase,
The taste of the kill.
Washed with blood and cleansed with vengeance
Dealt gleefully by a mass of scum.
A smashed skull and open flesh
On sidewalk lying in shocking prostration,
Serves few and saves none.
Consumed and expunged like
Last night’s meal.
A fleeting flavour, like a hint of home,
On sidewalk café all alone.
She watched coolly
Her face blank and bare.
Naked, alone, a condemned whore,
Fucked not for a fifty.
I raped her soul that night,
My senses ruptured.