My muse haunts me with whispers of evil,
Glimpses of fleeting images bestir,
Echoes of screaming and crashing of steel,
And malodorous wafts of steaming fear.

It is a hungry world she inhabits;
Everyday tastes of the oozing idea,
There's so much to devour in this climate,
A snack speaks for a new dark phobia.

A hint of light greeted by screaming pain,
Reveals her shiny glistening armor.
The words she gives me seem so inhumane,
That when I try to speak them I stutter.

Her eyes burn red with her stark pained vision,
Images that make me want to be blind.
A steel of nerve and bindings of passion,
Holds her to the wall of my darkened mind.

The lust for her words stirs my mind to ache,
Hiding her intent in her painful mask,
Is it only my heart she wants to break?
Will she speak to me tonight?  Dare I ask?