Servitude of Souls

Souls are to some
The key to living
But this can be severely hidden
A cellar so sordid
Home to a doctor born morbid
His quest in life
Was to cut out souls with his knife
Snatched his victims
After night fall, random target
All humans have a soul
Then one night, out and stalking he saw a glow
Around a lonely walker whom he tracked, jumped and overthrew
This had to be a special one
He tied her up and brought her home
Dragged downstairs, head bumped the steps
All bruised and swelled
On the gurney strapped and gagged her screaming yap
Steady breath
Behind the surgical mask no thought
Of giving anesthesia
Servitude of souls, master robbing anima x2
The knife went deep, the shining grew
Her spastic body of pain showed proof
Secret sermon uttered for the souls to stay intact before caught
She bit off her own tongue
A jar of glass placed carefully next to the…
…Open wound she watched her soul slip into it
Closed the lid and smiles as he let her die, cold an empty
Now came the time to merge with glowing treasure of his
His dirty glasses reflected his hands as they slowly opened a drawer
Pulled out a vast collection of jars
They all contained his victims sparks
The thievish doctor had formed a plan
Through surgery insert them all into his body
Slashed a laceration and poured them in
The dead was lying rotting and wouldn’t miss a thing
Servitude of souls, master robbing anima x2