Ladies and gentlemen,
these
are my hands.
My magnum opus.
Burned, destroyed.
With them, I held the most
living thing in this entire world.
Repress those horrified screams,
for I have heard them all.
Those inhuman things
only feed my insane thoughts,
which no other hands can hold.
Vulgar you, profane you,
catching falling stars
and trading hearts
like dirty coins.
Holding you
with those decayed things
that I call my hands,
sweltering,
I held the inferno and
began to smell
smoke.
Your prisoner,
in that cage,
the same cage that conceived
such a consuming sorrow.
It was my hand
gripping the cold iron bar,
your "Cask of Amontillado"
became my new home.
With these hands,
I suffocated the fire
engulfing me.
These are the hands,
that took away the prison guards,
the ones that smothered the old flame,
and the ones that saved my life,
only to become
deformed,
disfigured…
these hands.
My Magnum Opus.