A wraith scraping across the horizon
With the crawling visage of a mawkin's scream—
His wrenched mouth a Cimmerian void accompanied by a nauseating siren
That could blanket all of His angels' trumpets.
He never sleeps and tickles our nightmares—
Forcing giggles from the tormented and dead
To enlighten the masquerade of a dichotomous totality.