WHEN?
When did I become me?
When did I become the demon you see?
The image on the mirror screen
The monster behind your frightful scream
Amongst the dusty webs and tarantula creeping with care
When did I become the beast, that which made witches fear?
When did I become my demons host?
When I become what I dread the most?
When did become my creator and born the creature from the mist?
When did decay smell as daisies
When did the wiggle of maggots drive me crazy?
When did wails sound like symphonies in the opera hall?
When did I wonder the views from the eyes that litter my floor?
When did death seem as autumn, when did blood, fall
When I listen to frightful whimpers and hear it as nature’s call
When did I see girls as pretty when dressed as headless dolls
When did I shed my skin and wore my reaper’s skull?
The line that marked that point has been blurred by my victims’ echoes
I have since being baptized in my victims’ falsetto.