The Butcher

You always stood outside his door, didnt you?
Ready to pounce when he blinks
Your shadow a bubble wrapt around his head
To shield your gnawing dagger from his soberness
your bubble gets bigger and it did
Making your horns look seemingly like a crown
He sought to own it
He blinked
and swiftly, you pounced

Tearing through his inflamed chest 

Ripping open his melancholic brain

With your fiery arm on choke

Wrestling against his faintly gasps

Instantly, leaving him little but a shell

A shadow of immense greatness
A lifeless heap of nothingness
Another steak neatly cleaned from your table

But what of your insatiable hunger for gore?

Outside whose door do you now wait?

Ready for carnage