The Macabre Mr. Grimm

His grin — it's quite malevolent; blank bulbous eyes, foul rancid scent
I took along where e'er I went — the dark Macabre Mr. Grimm.
I thought I'd lost him long ago, last night I saw him — think he'll know?
His pale face gaunt, so tightly pulled — by hell, this ghastly fiend is ruled.

 
'Twas but a child when he appeared, – tormenting me for many years –
then he just up and disappeared — but now he's back, just as I feared...
I cannot say what brought him here, I only know he thrives on fear;
if he is back, my future's dim — the dark macabre Mr. Grimm.

 
He feeds on maggot riddled flesh, his teeth are green, his horrid breath,
it stinks of graves and worms and death, he'll suck your soul 'til nothing's left.
While to my crucifix I've cleft, this wretched soul devoid, bereft
laid witches from Macbeth in sin — the dark macabre Mr. Grimm.

He comes to me in darkest dreams, in places no one hears my screams.
He'll never leave me – so it seems – his hatred's so intense, extreme.
Blank eyes they sparkle, a deadly gleam, there's no one on whom I can lean.
For none but me believe in him — the dark macabre Mr. Grimm.

 
I prayed this fiend would leave me be, yet more and more, he troubles me.
In his image it's my face I see — staring cold, so cruelly.
I dare not run, I mustn't flee — Away, you demon! — I decree.
He simply grins, I'm him, you see — the dark macabre Mr. Grimm.

When on the nights the moon is full, the darkness creeps in silent lull,
you're warm in bed, feel evil's pull, as stormy skies, cloud laden — full,
release their burden on the earth, that's when he's near, for what it's worth.
Oh, hear the thunderous din, it's him! — The dark macabre Mr. Grimm.