I grew up in a haunted house
Where walls were wet with blood.
Phantasmagoric phantoms of my mother
set the mood.

Cadavers roamed the rooms
Their choral moans in sync.
To die in such a residence,
Surviving on the brink.

The days were drowned in silence,
While night surfaced the screams
Of murdered men. I lived
inside a sea of make-believe.

      And mirrors morphed
The monsters into mad reality
Insidious-their curses are
My sad normality

Today I am awake because
my horrors never sleep
The fictive fiends cry melodies
My mind cannot compete