The revenge in my heartÂ
Is crimson and black
Even though I am perturbed
By the verb that is the word
I was revitalized by the gods that had the ichor
That drained the gore
That is the lifeblood
Not in the guise of a slasher
Just deaths ever after
Not the voodoo
That changed what I do
But the apocalyptic disembowelment
That harvest the macabre creepy pasta of what others do
From the crone to the zombie, from the witch to the cannibal
Life’s own revenge is more amenable
And on Halloween Night
The Feast of Samhain
When sanguine psychos scream out in pain
Tormented they are from their torture
And the abattoir contained
Oozing and mutilated, grotesquely vomiting
Their shudders and burning scaphism
None should know of these things
But those exhumed from the crypt or the grave
But the antagonistic ghouls and their black hearts
Experience a vicissitude under the harvest moon
Like a stabbing from a scimitar
Though I do love the night and a fool moon
How atmospheric and spooky the tune
That comes with the gloaming
And demons, and ghosts, and clowns abound
As unnerving nightmares dancing and prowling around
Chains rattling, dread teeming copious amounts
As the abomination that was the sticky prowler
Was a legend amongst the paranoid collector of souls
And possession or exorcism, we all die in the end
To where we know not but it certainly impends
But the autopsy of the visceral phobias was cadaverous
In comparison to the abhorrent rot
That was a gothic romance of a homicide
The only answer to dance
Dance in the dark void
No mercy shown, no congress given
Scream into the blackness corpse
Exhume the monstrous sinister remorse
Fore dark brains wrought
Definite recourse
Bludgeon and poison the paranormal
Exhaust the norm
Finality is our chaos
Can not avoid the approaching storm
Dark is the scream, the eek , the fear
The uncanny massacre
Obliterating our oblivion
Savage and morbid
Disturbing the putrification of the secretor
So this ode is done
But always remember that horror is nearer
Horrormadam 
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