Masquerade Massacre (The Poem

This is the warning of the moon lit night.

I wish to warn you that it will be a fright.

Their guilt behind their masks will tear you to shreds.

As you lay there weeping, all alone in your beds.

So little victims, in so little time.

Killing so many, just to make a dime.

Their underground sport is a game that is played.

They kill for fun, leaving bodies to be displayed.

Demons, is what their masks represent.

Calling their work justice, for the deaths that are ment.

I think of them as brethren, which makes my mask smile.

My killings will be fun, all for awhile.

This is the end of this breif discusion.

As you suffer that severe concusion.