Making My Presence Known

If you be a man of state of truth You'll tell me how I came to you Tell me how I came to you Through her eyes I know no ruth Two buried beneath the stable doors I cannot form a way found out For the rapists and dealers know me well The killers will now know me well I'll come to their door and slit their throat After the torcher goes to claim The life of the victims he has slain By pliars I pull his nails out And hammer his wrists to the oak As never before seen by eyes Religious or not they'll be crucified Drilling holes in his knees The scream, and pains of the suffering Bring with them a joyful smirk His eyelids cut out with dull scissors And six inches of needle in left eye Proved my point long ago But to really make my presence known Seven-eigths wood bore to his forehead Then my hands are bloody again My teeth grit hard through my smile Sadistic I've become in my write and will Now tell me Lovely One Do you finally see a portion? So small a fraction of what goes on in this head Now I will make my presence known To the one who hurt you the most Adam's his name and he will die In a manner in which I described Perhaps even worse upon my mood I'm in a Hell no one's been in So nobody's to help me but myself And I'll make my presence known and then Then I'll be sane again