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Image for the poem It Knows What Scares You

It Knows What Scares You

It dwells in me,
This endless hate.
No human morals,
My mind does debate.

My identity hidden,
Until Halloween night.
Clues I will drop,
With cunning delight.

But beware my lies,
Strewn among truth.
Then scream my name,
From what you sleuth.

I'll make half-promises,
That I might keep.
I'll reveal my name,
Before your final sleep.

At the very end,
It will be presented.
Then all are damned,
And slowly tormented.

I sometimes sleep,
But not for long.
When I awake,
You'll soon be gone.

Soon I will rise,
Then never tire.
Your grisly demise,
My wanton desire.

Your hide is mine,
And your heart too.
Of who I am,
You have no clue.

Now I've arisen,
So hungrily awoken.
Endure my wrath,
I've spat and spoken!

Teasing midnight tapping,
On your bedroom window.
Pausing for a moment,
Then to cruelly continue.

That scratching noise,
Inside your wardrobe.
Your fear runs rampant,
As I begin to probe.

That moving shadow,
On your bedroom floor.
All these things,
I inhumanly adore.

Such satisfaction,
Such gloated glee.
These grotesque things,
Are simply me.

That constant chill,
Cutting to your bone.
Is the arrival of me,
When you're all alone.

Those ice-cold shivers,
Running down your spine.
Are a taste of me,
But on you I'll dine.

I fondly feast,
On your fresh fears.
Then greedily guzzle,
Your endless tears.

I enrich pitiful cries,
Enhance all screams.
I hideously interrupt,
Countless sweet dreams.

Nothing can save you,
No feeble Lord's Prayer,
For I will drown you,
In dark depths of despair.

So many innocents,
To pick and choose.
They are so young,
How can I lose.

The purest evil,
I'm forged from.
My depths of depravity,
All shall succumb.

No remorse or mercy,
Is found in me.
During my relentless,
Frenzied killing spree.

My hunt now begins,
I'm a fiendish creature.
All victims devoured,
My grisliest feature.

The joy of my hunt,
All are my prey.
I'll never stop,
Each night or day.

I can easily be,
A headless torso.
As rivers of blood,
So endlessly flow.

Vile ghoul's galore,
To haunt everyone.
I'm just starting,
Having my fun.

All are cattle,
Prime cuts indeed.
This town has plenty,
On which I feed.

I am what I am,
All I'll ever be.
A hatred for humanity,
Rages within me.

Perhaps another name,
I might possess.
Any who speak of it,
I kill or oppress.

Rich pickings galore,
I'm spoilt for choice.
A process of elimination,
Of which I rejoice.

This sleepy town,
So safe and snug.
Is in for a shock,
As I pull its plug.

A heavenly abode
Where innocent's dwell.
Will now become,
Its living hell.

My constant hunger,
Will never be sated.
My endless horror show,
Now painfully presented.

Don't dare forget!
My name to guess.
Cast among carrion,
To cause distress.

And now my tale,
Is to be told.
To scream aloud,
By young and old.

I bathe in blood,
So deep and flowing.
Your endless suffering,
I enjoy bestowing.

From hell I came,
Or a profane place.
Beware my lies,
I whisper to your face.

Now a change of pace,
So short and sweet.
Of what I do,
To those I meet.

I cut,
I splice.
Your simply mine,
At any price.

I bite,
I burn.
Within my clutches,
You'll never return.

I tease,
I toy.
All your fears,
I simply enjoy.

I rip,
I kill.
One of a kind,
With a demonic skill.

I rage,
I tear..
Then take all back,
To my dark lair.

My work is endless,
So much to do
To dine so fine,
Always on you.

My wrath is hellish,
It lives forever.
For I am so sly,
And insidiously clever.

Am I an angel,
One fallen so deep.
Beyond heaven's grace,
As I begin to reap.

I'm the prince of lies,
The king of deceit.
None ever escape me,
I'm the cruellest cheat.

No little Bram,
Or common Stoker.
Escape their demise,
By a killing joker.

No sweet little Anne,
With her mothers Rice.
Her dolly's tea party,
Didn't end so nice.

No small Stephen,
Nor mighty King.
Escape my anger,
Decimating everything.

No innocent Mary,
Or sister Shelley.
Don't know I dwell,
In Death's underbelly.

No Edgar and Allan,
Or childish Poe.
I slaughter them all,
Blow after blow.

I'm one of a kind,
Death's tour de force.
Murdering for pleasure,
With no weak remorse.

A monster of illusion,
With so many faces.
To lure all away,
From secure places.

Countless have fallen,
By my evil hands.
Or is it talons,
Across these lands.

My name soon revealed,
Now the end's in sight.
Concluding my dark tale,
With no shred of contrite.

Perhaps I'm a demon,
Spewed up from hell.
Or even a warlock,
Just who can tell.

Maybe a black witch,
Out seeking blood.
Who's well rewarded,
With an endless flood.

I might be found,
In a horror novel.
With powers unlimited
To make all grovel.

I must survive,
It's in my nature.
By trickery and murder,
By none so greater.

I am the darkness,
Out to envelop all.
Haunting this town,
At my beck and call.

To corner my quarry,
I'll recite a story.
And at it's end,
A conclusion so gory.

Legions of little lives,
Gone up in smoke.
By one sly and slippery,
Impossible to uncloak.

I might be unearthed,
From a dark fairy-tale.
A cruel guessing game,
If I'm male or female.

My scheming plans,
So savage and sick.
Enacted on the gullible
So easy to pick.

I cannot tell,
How many I've slain.
Towered piled bodies
In my dark domain.

My tally of hundreds,
Perhaps even thousands.
Corpses credited to me,
And my heartless hands.

Countless years ago,
Since I did appear.
This sleepy town tonight,
Wide awake with fear.

There's one special time,
Called Halloween Night.
I easily lurk in,
Delivering dark delight.

On Halloween Night,
I can clown around.
Brutal black comedy,
It's humour never found.

Small souls so gullible,
Look down a sink.
Where I call from,
And easily hoodwink.

My beguiled do choose
To close their eyes,
But I make each see,
Their painful demise.

I demand to know,
From what you've viewed.
Of my elusive name,
Do you dare conclude.

The clues are there,
For all to clearly see.
Hiding in plain sight,
Lies my true identity.

Any colour,
Any race.
Any religion,
I so evilly embrace.

Any child,
Any age.
Any place,
Can't escape my rage.

All that is human,
All that is holy.
All that is living,
I slaughter so slowly.

Of my victims,
I'm colour blind.
But crimson red,
I leave behind.

Weak things in life,
All pitifully cry.
All by my hands,
Each born to die.

Innocent false facades,
I effortlessly project.
What's reality or false,
None ever do detect.

Enough! One last clue,
The lights I do shine.
Are dead and cold,
Beacons made to malign.

It's time to reveal,
A last but one surprise.
My name is simply,
PENNYWISE!

My last monstrous surprise,
I now finally submit.
My other name is infernally...
IT!

And if this dark poem,
Isn't your sort of thing.
Don't blame me,
Blame, Stephen King!

Hiya Georgie!

*
 
Stephen King. The King Of Horror And Charity

It, comes to us as no big surprise,
Of a writer who loves to terrorize.
His imagination does horror bring,
The living legend Mr Stephen King.

The most prolific author of his generation,
With his many novels of dark damnation.
A man with a charitable heart of gold,
Donating millions to aid all consoled.

So many think when hearing his name,
A gifted horror writer of wealth and fame.
Superb dark stories of which I'm a fan,
And the unselfishness of this fine man.

You stay on top you remain horror's King,
You brighten our lives with dark colouring.
Such rapt originality you brilliantly show,
So live a long life and what it can bestow.

Thank you Stephen King.
Written by ShaunCronick100 (Shaun Cronick)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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