Sean Starr

Artist, Creative Director, and Author

The Executioner

This room has no order

canvas hanging motionless on the walls

enter The Executioner

clothing covered

with the remnants of his crimes

making no apologies

for what he does next

past lovers and friends

have met their fate here

the music blares

and drowns out the screams

He mixes his poisons

sharpening blades

staring at his victims

eyes rolling back

thinking of days

filled with lies and betrayal

unrevealed for years

Eyes reopened

The slaughter begins

cold utensils and wicked poisons

hands covered

flowing colors drip

preserving moments

documented as history

They declared it as beauty

filling romantic hearts

inspiration ensued

but in the end

it was the product of slaughter

casualties of profane murders

birth spawned from death

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