The Bishop's Torturer

Note: The below poem is NOT AI generated. Vocal rejected this before stating it appeared to be so. I abhor the very thought of having a machine or program write for me and don't even know how to do so.

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Rats rustle in the filth

Insects scurry in matted straw

Chains rattle against weeping stone

In their dank fetid cells

Weak voices plead for relief

Throats torn from screaming

Begging for mercy

Others just moan in agony

As some silently weep

I take it all in

Closing my eyes

I drink in the ambience

The stench of feces

Puddled urine

Unwashed bodies

Coppery taint of spilt blood

Rot from bloated corpses

Carelessly discarded in the pit

A carrion feast for scurrying rodents

Nirvana ... Mana from Heaven

They said I was depraved

Said I would never amount to anything

Yet, here in this dungeon

Below the grand cathedral to merciful love

I am lord and master

I am the final answer to religious fervor

All in my domain fear me, loathe me..., love me

All would do anything

Commit any act

Follow my most depraved commands

Just for a brief moment of peace

On my table

Laid out neatly, gleaming

My tools ...

Saw, hammer, chisel, plyers, knives

Bamboo splits: sharp, flexible

Wires; thin, strong

Rats in their own cages

Scrabbling, sniffing..., hungry

Blood red eyes staring

Knowing that soon they may get their next meal

Soft abdominal flesh on which to gnaw

Entrails on which to feast

Their noses twitch in anticipation

I hear the guard's keys jangling

His steps approaching my fiefdom

As the door creaks open

Rusted hinges squealing in protest

My heartbeat increases

My mouth salivates

Another guest come to experience my talents

Ah yes... Heavenly sound of sobbing

Crying, begging, whimpering protests

Dangling feet

Dragging across the dank stone

Hopefully this one will last longer

Put him there

Now, my new friend, let us get better acquainted