Darkness, Tis My Soul

For thee, let me weave a little tale
One of warped views and violent
Bloody hues. Just a little taste of
Something much more dark, one
Sinister and brooding, waiting
For thee to walk through the park.
Doth thou know the feeling, of
The clammy touch of death? Come,
Let me show thee, I command
Such tricks. I could make it slow,
So that thy might endure for all
Eternity beneath my wicked touch.
Or, if thou wishes for quickness
This scythe will work wonders
Upon thy flesh. Please, don’t scream,
To thee I mean no harm. I just
Want to have a little morbid fun.

(c) 2003 A Riddle