To Cross the Crooked Step.

Pathways to my cruel addiction...
Gorged roads of corpses, lepers and death.
This house of darkness, my destination.
But seperation in a crooked step.

I feel my spirit's very presence...
Churning deep within me, wispy and cold.
Come creatures lashing, swiftly surrounding...
Yearning to devour my precious soul.

I bleed in the house of broken mirrors,
Where a devil's reflection bathes in the fog...
As the demons outside converse and whisper,
Their voices' stench clung to the smog.

My screams are covered with bloodly gurgles.
A living purgatory yore...
Some crimson mosaic is shattered to pieces...
As remains of my heart now paint the floor.

The dreamcatcher rattles against the window,
Collapses...
Withers...
Down into ash.
Laying the piece of oakwood grain,
Where the crooked step was marred and smashed.

Thus the gargoyles begin to screech my name...
Banshees wailing, the serpents hiss,
Lupine fangs bare against the moon...
For the quenching of blood, the taste of bliss.

And then...

Creeeeaaaaaakkkkk...

A scent of mahogany pervades the air..
Footsteps echo from within the wall...
Foundation crumbles beneath my barren body..
A sound distinct, and faintly small.

I hear the laughs...
The cackles.
The bellows.
Breaths musty and raspy against my neck,
Veins are blue, frozen with dark dread...
Voracious pores draining out with sweat.

Open the pathway to my addiction...
A gorged pathway laid out with corpses and death.
Leave me swallowed within the blackness...

To finally cross the crooked step.