Haunted Choir

Write gonzo attempting to impress.
Reality is subjected to duress.
Fabrciated forms supposed to be a line.
Next words out my mouth are: it will be mine.
Not sure on the liberty of the setting sun.
Did one meet two to make us dumb?
Personality suggests me to be a liar.
You refute the claims from this haunted choir.
All are ill and wishing to share their pain.
Yes these are the demons who would scream lame.
A sad sad story built on the bones of the cute.
Final point will render every word they say moot.
Not a claim that should writhe in the pit.
Scoop up the ingenuity with a well worn mitt.
Bored by sane so you sold those means for air.
Put me right back in with a count of despair.

Ligatures ring the flawless neck.
Upon them so many wish to peck.
Weave their lies ’til they form truth.
Soon we can say they’ll be long in the tooth.
Twinned and bathed in dark blood.
Silhouettes who stand to welcome a flood.
Wavering in the breeze of fame.
Each new word is sounding tame.
So stack the chairs ’til they reach the roof.
All while speaking in a manner that is aloof.
Cause the dregs are not the draw.
Instead they whisper of a refashioned law.
Drenched in sweat and without pity.
Time to get down to the nitty-gritty.
Apparently you haven’t noticed the change.
It comes from a place that’s quite deranged.

Spectres, spooks, creeps and crawlers.
They are all marked out as stalkers.
Each ready for a bar room brawl.
Desperate to have a fresh place to trawl.
Yet heed these words only if you will.
All of society you can see them spill.
Twist the point until it clicks.
It leads to an eternity filled with licks.
While swinging to the horror themes.
None of this is from wildest dreams.
Just the truth of what is told.
You have been brought into the fold.
Not as predator but as prey.
It’s the only position, so they say.
Which is probably why you look so pale.
For this is the end of your short little tale.