Hell In Disguise

I am turning in
I'm winding down,
scabbed needles
stitch my crown.

Waters rage
calling me to drown,
the little prophet
has become a clown.

Watch me bathe
in disco blood,
see the victims
create a flood.

Trust has gone
I beLIEve no more,
paper man
on a flaming floor.

Through darkened years
I suffer slowly,
this demon lived
to betray the lonely.

Am I horror
or am I kind?
Am I a candle
for all the blind?

@Steven Francis poems 1997