Hannibal Lecter: Ode

Oh the scream of ever-growing slaughtered spring lambs
That batter restlessly against the minds strong damns
Screams that echo in the head of our dear Hannibal
Stretching back before he became a Cannibal.

Legend claims he was destined to be made a monster
When way back in the winter of old Nineteen-Forty-Four
Just a little boy, no sooner had he given up on simple toys
When he saw the cause of that unholy, unforgiving noise.
Vladis Grutas and his gang, cruel and hard and desperate for Glory
Were the ones who instigated this oh so hellish story
As hungry and dying, they were the ones who were gory
In the attempts to evade certain death.
Hannibal…he watched, and it was so painful
For them to eat his sisters flesh by the plateful
What had she done? Just be in the wrong place
Even though he contested to take her out that space.
This is only the beginning of the rage that lasts an age
And soon makes him centre stage in the criminal freak show.
This fixation turned to addiction, as he turned this depiction
Of his sisters fate upon them. The end justified the means
But the conscience finds ways to remain unclean…

Throughout the ages, as the reader turns the pages of
The stories ready to unfold at the very mention of Gold
Dr. Hannibal Lecter M.D – a count no more – still continues
To act on an already settled score. Person after person is merely
Holding onto a life they abuse…very, very dearly.
Still harbouring that sick hunger, still goes on longer
And Mischa's screams still linger.
Will Graham and him made such as a sweet team
Until he found of Dr. Lecter's secret sweetmeats.
The pedestal upon which Hannibal was held only
Increased his fall. The pillar was made with weld and
Sweat so firm he held. The jury listened to victim after
Victim – some were scum, and a few had caused a coup
But many were ordinary, so sympathy soon withered.

The asylum walls provide the air that cools and the humidity
To allow for his mental Witchery but without his teeth getting
Onto what we bequeath. The Red Dragon provided some news
For him, even if they cut out the articles, getting into Graham's
Head was for the best…who knows, he could wind up dead.
It has to be said, he prefers him the way he ended up.
Besides, his next apprentice from the Bureau was much more
Amusing. A tasty, tactful, pretty and respectable little Lutheran
Who he could immediately sense was holding something close to her heart.
The first step is get these secrets and memories to part. Oh Clarice Starling,
How I die to tell you how much alike we are…
First things first: now's the time to escape from this cage
For his rage has been left for too long to say dormant.
Lamb chops for dinner…and lamb chops is what he made of them.
Dr. Chilton was made more into chop suey than much more than what's
Worth the words of cops…

The final path to Humanisation came abruptly
But yet still people tried to stop me telling this tale.
Stories of bounties for sale, FBI agents that fail
Skin care, an Italian flair and an animal's need to feed.
An animal's need to feed to like a need for greed:
This is a quality Clarice is attractively lacking in.
On the other hand, Mason Verger – a man to whom
Money and evil are but only a merger – is rich in it.
Lecter's greatest work, if you look through the murk
To find it in Lecter's right 'climate'. What happened before
And after his presence if his life, is one that only increased his
Strife. When he died, surely the anger that once lingered must
Soon be gone: died out like the end of a song.

And now, Clarice and Hannibal have what they wanted:
Love, Peace, Adventure and Honesty.
Gone are the cops who just leech on their work
Gone are the tedious lectures to give to their work
Gone is the cold breeze that chills them both in moments of comfort
And for now at least, gone are the screams.
Their minds are free to each others…