Invocation
(Double Couplets)
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May these bloody blades of poetry
Cut the sinews of your sanity;
This, oh foolish mortal, is your fate
(Should you soldier on ere it's too late
To escape these agonies of fright).
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
But, as you remain outside tonight,
Raise your hand and knock upon this door:
Perfect! Now knock only twelve times more.
Thirteen knocks, and now the door shall ope, *
Dashing out the trembling ghost of hope,
When the door reveals inside the void
Glowing eyes of red that have destroyed
Men of moxie. Ah, what have we here?
This here child has shaken not in fear,
But only wears the smile of grinning death!
Now enter, child, and breathe your final breath!
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FINISH