Still, It Pulls Me


 
The darkness pulled me, in those years—
delicious taste of sacred fears,
            to satiate my appetite
            for all things roaming in the night
with ghostly garb and toothy sneers.
 
Window through which the monster peers,
or gloomy path on which he nears,
            for me did equally delight...
            the darkness pulled me.
 
The blackened stain of bloody smears
revealed, once all the carnage clears—
            it drew me like a moth to light—
            inspired me to start to write
of lunacy and her sharp shears...
            the darkness pulled me.