You think that my heart is cold;
Have you thought to ask why?
My heart is but fullerite.
Vengeance is my ally.

I was crazy for your love.
I loved your affection.
But I became more insane
At the first detection
Of your villainous treason.
Hate was an infection.

I caught him. In the tussle
My spirit left its dorms,
Evicted to seek a place
In its bodiless form.

You knew that I’d seek revenge,
Despite my Atman’s karma.
Under these circumstances
I’ll ignore the Dharma.

How can I be standing here?
This corpse should be rotten.
Cadavers don’t rot when they’re
Of my power begotten.

You marvel at my tattoos?
They’re burned into my skin.
I had to rid my presence
Of worms wriggling within.

My sockets have no eyeballs,
Because I went insane
And gouged them out with my nails.
They were a meal arcane.

You think these holes can’t see you;
But, if it’s all the same,
They’re far from blind or empty,
For they are lit with flame.

They can see through anything.
Your spirit has black spots.
It pierces me to think that
Once I cherished you lots.

Seeing all, I see that you
Never cared about me.
I was just a trifling thing
You liked infrequently.

I’m here to do some mischief;
I’ve been drawn by your musks.
Do not fear for your lover,
His ribs are now my tusks.

I crushed them, sending pieces
Into his lungs and heart.
Ere he died he knew my name.
I ripped his chest apart.

With his broken ribs I gashed
His precious face to shreds.
It doesn’t matter, for you
Would never kiss the dead,
And I’ll have no kiss from you.
Why do you stare at my head?

Is it because there’s no hair?
I scalped the whole mess off.
What’s left’s a bleeding abscess.
I’ve ne’er been one for boffs,

But this joke is so precious
To see you trembling there
Aghast at your bald man
Who later scalped his hair.

Why, darling you always said
You liked a man who’s bald.
Why does my sight frighten you?
You’d think your heart had stalled.

But that it will soon enough.
You’ll meet my sharpened ribs’ tusks
That will take off your skin like
Fresh corn’s silky husks.

There’s no mantra to save you
From the forces trapped in
The hideous, moribund
Corpse I take refuge in.

Should you even attempt it,
Another one I’ll take.
For I won’t be satisfied
Until your neck I break.

Soon I’ll leave this body
When my mischief has spread,
And Fate finds you dismembered,
Mangled up, maimed, and dead.