This tale to be told, of a man and his mind

Will tell of the power behind his decline

A terrible fiend lurked deep in his head

That cruelly and craftily led him to death.

 

A short life lived long while awaited the grave,

For the victim, through frenzied life, displayed

A tempestuous tongue full of venomous rage

Whipped franticly through its deceptive cage.

 

Deeds, like thorns, stab and prick with spiky tips

Like pointy pins they puncture skin, and yank to rip

Some land on fresh and perfect flesh,

While some seek scars to sink within.

 

 

In shallow sleep comes the jagged old man

Who feasts through the night on a cunning plan

Luring and luring; he reels in his prey

With bait of false promise of peace to claim

He coaxes the dreamer to follow his way.

 

 

The jagged old man lies clenched in wait

For the lids of the dreamer to open the gate

While poised on the brink of the realms of dark

He moves to the beat of the slowing heart

 

Step,

By step,

By step,

With creaking old limbs

He creeps to the dreamer

and taps to come in.

 

 

Crusted flesh forms the rim of a noxious cave

Where seeping sores wept tears of decay

The taut skin splits as parted lips move to speak

Exposing peaks of shards of teeth

Browned and weak, corroded and seared,

From the acidic breath of thousands of years.

 

 

Forth was forced a crackling sound

From the hollow of his dusty chest

Where could be found, no more no less,

A blackened heart that barely beats

 

 

And coming around from their rested phase

Shrivelled lungs recall their ways:

An arid wheeze progressed to a rasp,

Then the jagged old man spoke out at last.