Invocation

  (Double Couplets)

  May these bloody blades of poetry

  Cut the sinews of your sanity;

  This, oh foolish mortal, is your fate

  (Should you soldier on ere it's too late

  To escape these agonies of fright).

  If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  But, as you remain outside tonight,

  Raise your hand and knock upon this door:

  Perfect! Now knock only twelve times more.

  Thirteen knocks, and now the door shall ope, *

  Dashing out the trembling ghost of hope,

  When the door reveals inside the void

  Glowing eyes of red that have destroyed

  Men of moxie. Ah, what have we here?

  This here child has shaken not in fear,

  But only wears the smile of grinning death!

  Now enter, child, and breathe your final breath!

  FINISH