In the darkness, the dinginess, the filth, the grime.
In an old house in the middle of nowhere,
Young people, being tortured, being killed
By a mad-man in a dead-skin mask
THANK GOD ITíS ONLY A FILM
In this blood-soaked hell-hole there has been suffering
Of which no human has ever felt before
A crazy man with overalls is slicing, dicing, peeling
Sewing, ripping, slashing, all the while, the victim still feeling
ITíS ONLY A FILM
Screaming, yelling, shouting in agony and torment
Inevitable death, doom, hanging over his head
He hangs from a hook in his back, skewered
One leg hacked off at the knee, all the while, still feeling
ONLY A FILM
Terror, despair, fear, culminating in him, eyes bulging
As if to pop, but no scream leaves his open mouth
Blood gurgles past his lips as he prays for death
His friend, skinned alive, before his life slipped away
A FILM
The mad-man sews foot to the pedal of the machine
Stitching the young man’s face back together
Bits of body parts hang from the ceiling, heads and innards
Jars of human eye-balls, noses, fingers, feet on a bench
FILM
Another chase and the girl runs to the meat plant
Running through the swinging cow carcasses and heads
Skinned cow’s heads swaying as she knocks them,
Eyeballs as wide and white as hers as she runs for her life
THEN IT DAWNS ON ME
The horror of what I have seen is NO different to
The horror
The terror,
The pain,
The torture,
The fear,
The screams
The conscious suffering
The hanging
The slicing
The hacking
The sawing
The skinning alive
The hanging body parts
Swinging heads
The entrapment
The fact no one hears
Having nowhere to run
Skin stitched to make garments
THE INEVITABLE DEATH
The blood
The guts
The suffering…
Of the slaughterhouse
THIS ISN’T A FILM, THIS IS REAL LIFE
I wept