Sanguinary (age 22)

As requested

Bravely I walk the dark tree lined alley.
A ritualistic fear would be restrained.
One foot before the next, to avoid rats scurry,
an interesting dance, of macabre resemblance.
A full moon to brighten my progress,
the shadows should hold only my fears.
A shock of distress tingled my spine,
as an acheronian figure appeared from obscurity,
or had the trees conspired to conceal?
A hand of moon reflected white,
gripped tightly my rigid wrist.
Foreboding, resistance, a calling forth of Gods.
Be not mine death, a whispered heard by none.
A Cheshire grin faded from the flagitious figure,
as a secondary location was chosen at whim.
A heart that slowed, a mind that resisted,
a soul that screamed, and a body limp,
none found purchase within my chthonic man.