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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Psychology >> ID #1043865 |
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(AN INVESTIGATION INTO) THE MIND OF A SERIAL KILLER
The mind of a serial killer, A cold brutal place. Twisted memories intertwined With sick brutal thoughts. Remorse, Sympathy, Simply absent concepts. Only a world of narcissism exists Where the ID must be satisfied at all costs. The death of a hapless soul Means nothing to this creature, Simply an essential process to fulfil the need, A need to extract pleasure In the pain and suffering of others. We may poke and prod all we want, Research and conduct all our sophisticated studies, Exhaust all our fancy terminology. The fact remains that to truly understand this state of psyche We may have to become one with it ourselves, Turn in to that which we fear. This is an unacceptable price, For should we become successful We may derive that same neurotic pleasure As the one we wish to understand. And then the question arises Would we have the strength to stop? The bloodied carcasses on the floor around me suggests not.
© Copyright 2005 Byron Quinn (UN: byronquinn at Writing.Com).
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