Darker side of Nursery rhymes: Fee Fie Foe Fum

Everyone has heard the story of Crūm, 
Where ghastly spirits eat the dumb. 
But one such thrill seeking Englishman,
Well, he couldn't give a damn!

With a billow and triumphant roar,
He ventured forth to the haunted lore.
With a strong shove and confident shuffle,
He pushed the door in and ignored the bustle.

For with the first step in this ghastly place,
The windows, walls and furniture had sinister hate.
The man chuckles and hollers for the spirits,
Intent on seeing the falsity of the lore in it.

Unknown to him, however,
The door he entered had closed forever.
He walked ever so stupidly further in,
Still yelling for the spirits to find him.

When a shivering chill crossed his spine,
The man heard a whisper that would scare the blind.
"Fee.... Fie.... Foe.... Fum.....
We smell the blood of an Englishman...."

With a quick whip of his neck and a shrink of his bravado,
The man saw no being behind him to call on. 
"Be he alive, or be he dead,
His bone we grind will make our bread...."

Hands of death and wild grins of the netherworld,
Caressed the man and wrapped ever tightly around.
With a whispered scream, the man was dragged to the darkness,
Never to be seen, heard or thought of ever again.

For the legend of Crūm and its ghastly terror,
Continues on even now, and forever.