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I am the one hiding in your wardrobe,

I am the monster under your bed,

I am the fear that dares you to probe,

I am the anxiety messing with your head.



"Be not afraid"

Are the words of the dead!

They thought I could be stayed,

Now they're ROTTING INSTEAD.



You might ask your petty self now "why me?"

Chances are you're nothing special,

It's just the way it is you see,

Pointless is your mental scuffle.



First off I'll crush your mind,

So desperate for release you won't even care,

My tricks will leave you purblind,

My touch is drawn to your sweet sweet DESPAIR....

COMMENTS

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xXBlackRavenXx
21:04 Jun 04 2010

nice :)

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I went to the garden of love,

And saw what I had never seen:

A chapel was built in the midst,

Where I used to play on the green.



And the gates of this chapel were shut,

And 'Thou shalt not' writ over the door,

So I turn'd to the garden of love

That so many sweet flowers bore;



And I saw it was filled with graves,

And tomb-stones where flowers should be;

And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,

And binding with briars my joys and desires.