The imperfections of earthly beauty mean nothing to me as I am swallowed by my art 
Posthumous, and thus greater will be your beauty 
I will expose the masterpiece within your reviled form 

delicate tracery of red... 
...as I inflict upon you carvings of arcane design 

Convulutions of lacerated tissue 
I will shape a [bad word] and permanent smile on those sweetly curved lips 
Renderings of utmost lucidity 
With a loving violence the blade lingers over your skin 

delicate tracery of red... 
...I will release the beauty trapped beneath your skin 

Once you must have smiled so sweetly 
The world endless before your eyes 
I miss you though I've never known you 
But I can and will tell the end of your story 
In the intracacies of these lines 
The cut of your features 
Smeared beneath my fingertips 
My [bad word] quicker 
Aroused by the revelations of my incisions line 
Agonized, the line of your brow 
I relieve its tension by a cut of a tendon 
Beautific in darkest repose 
I delineate the course of your sorrows 
Incarnidine convolutions and conflicting strokes of carnelian 
Rich, trailing behind the sharpened edge 
Fluid welling up like some purified crimson wine 
I exalt you by my atrocities 

delicate tracery of red... 
...with your tortured flesh I aspire to approach the sublime through... 
...a delicate tracery of red 
 [bad word] by a great and sinister joy 
In this, my most tender of [bad word] 
Forms of perfected aspect exposed from within 
Animate is my medium, you writhing as my canvas 
I revel in your soiled femininity 
As the razors dance in your deepest and most secret place 
Your screams were the purest of melodies 
The low moans you emit arouse my disgust 
You would never sing for me so sweetly 
No matter how I sought your tainted embrace 
Your kind reckons my touch, you can no longer repulse my demands 
Whirls and lines cover your torso, a hint of eternal mysteries revealed 
The peeling of pale and tender flesh 
I strip from your form your transient veneer 
I expose the ugliness of your kind 
I inscribe your shame of your skin 
Bleeding spirals on your [bad word] 
As I follow the lines of natures greatest folly [bad word] scored in your limbs, so smooth and tempting a canvas 
I move my scalpel towards your eyes 
Still, they hold your expression and something of you beneath their glaze 
With a slice I open your pupils 
For you to better gaze upon the darkness you must see 

With a loving violence the blade lingers over your skin 
I will release the beauty trapped under your skin 

delicate tracery of red... 
...fueled by the deepest of hatreds 

Perfection of the most elevated and torturous kind... 
...I will release the beauty trapped beneath your skin