Once upon a midnight dreary,
There was a man who was cold and weary.
Staring up at the blood red moon,
Knowing death his way will come soon.

For he has skeletons from his past,
And time in one place can never last.
As he looks upon the darkened sky,
He remembers his life is all but a lie.

There are demons from his life,
That cause nothing but pain, anguish, and strife.
Not knowing which way he should turn,
He keeps remembering the faces he burned.

There really is no rhyme or reason,
But he feels the need to change every season.
He keeps honing his finely tuned skill,
Awaiting the chance for his next kill.

Once upon a midnight dreary,
There was a man who was cold and weary.
Not knowing that around the next bend,
His life will finally come to an end.