The Monster in the Mirror

The hunt is on,        
the monster must be found,                
a murderous creature killing in our sleep.                
Yet with trepidation,                
I am haunted by something deep,                             
an evil growing day by day,                
drawing me toward this crypt,                
where shadows play in games arcane,                
          
Their mocks both evil and profane,                
for within this dark domain,                
wicked thoughts are all that remain.                
Hungry now for this evil abyss,                
dreams of pain become my bliss,          
in madness I lose control,                                    
covered by the blood of my dreams.    
               
Hearing shouts of fear and vengeance,                
At last! The monster has been found,                         
But what joke is this,                
as they wrap chains around my wrists.                
I scream my innocence                
and lift my hands in prayer                
and scream again,                
seeing claws that once were hands.          
                
A searing pain as a spear is thrust,                
a thousand times these cuts draw rust,                
crying, "I am not a monster, don't you see?"                
as I'm driven to my knees                
and then in slow creeping darkness,                
I am finally set free