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.