[UnbornBuddha]

The greatest gangster of them all

The crime scene was littered with dead bodies
Victims’ fingers everywhere, the scene smelled bloody.
And amidst the massacre affair the darkness and despair
One gangster remained there, spreading laughter in the air
Unmoving, just maniacally ***kling, he was captured impaired.
It was up to Detective Ignatius to investigate this business
By interrogating this sadistic sicko, the only remaining witness.
Everyone else was dead, there were even assassinated children
But what happened to the conglomerate of villains?
Did this one man exterminate the most venerated Sicilians?

After hours of silence the unnamed criminal spoke:
“The Don told me about you cops and your sinister role
Always portraying humanity in a cynical tone
I won’t snitch or rat, that’s my syndicate’s code.
Ignatius stated: who is your Don? Is it Corleone?
Explain your horror story and its twisted morals for me
Say it and I’ll promise the charges will be minimal
Even if you did tarnish the city’s soul,
Carving a malevolent carnage that ripped its bones.
A day later: “Very well” said the inconsiderate rogue
"Since you guessed my Don, let it be known"

Our tale begins in Scarface’s wrinkles
Like prison tattoos, they’re an arcane symbol
Stigmata for martyrs that harnessed evil, unfathomed equals
Who see murder, prostitution and gambling as legal.
Cartel figures selling for the highest bidder your daughter’s nipples
Do you want a nibble detective?
Ignatius: "Stop fooling around with your deceptive riddle incentives
Just continue telling your story schmuck, even if it’s a little depressive".

Well, the last supper before the messiah’s execution
Parallels this night, due to the final resolution
Turf war is a viral hellish fusion, bodies’ pile by the units
Fire bending users fighting for their empires evolution.
Peace between the families is one of the most childish illusions
So I schemed to wipe out all humans, including my own Don
So when the families gathered, I occluded my Don’s tongue
I even separately polluted the Don’s son
And then, I released poisonous fumes into the vents
Killing everyone, while I excused myself to the room of the gents
It was then I came to admire my ego’s proportions
The Don died with his facial features contorted. What a feeble person!
I decided to eat my pasta, dialed the department, and await your arrival
While, I was waiting I skinned, hacked, and defaced my rivals
I don’t want power, women, or money. I’ll just like to create a title
A psycho sending the universe a message through car bomb ripples
An archetypal serial killer indulging in launching missiles,
The type to burn alive an arson’s pit bull, an ironic death for an iconic pet
You see detective, my name is Pesci, a psychotic mess.
Everyone thought I was a subpar fool, and now they’re in hypnotic trek
To hell, just like this police department, because I planned on being here
And I orchestrated fumes to seep and kill everyone breathing here
But, not me, I’ve made myself immune to this lymphatic poisons!
Pesci laughed as he said this all in a taunting and haunting manner, joyously.
It was then detective Ignatius heard all the dead gangster’s voices
A vortex of screams that sounded like the victims the Nazi’s boiled.
He knew then, he was outsmarted by a mastermind he thought was foiled
He should have stayed home instead, and read Sir. Arthur Conan Doyle.