It Knows What Scares You! ...Part 3 Of 3....Happy Halloween! Poem by Shaun Cronick

I'm one of a kind,
Death's tour de force.
Murdering for pleasure,
With no weak remorse.

A monster of illusion,
With so many faces.
To lure all away,
From secure places.

Countless have fallen,
By my evil hands.
Or is it talons,
Across these lands.

My name soon revealed,
Now the end's in sight.
Concluding my dark tale,
With no shred of contrite.

Perhaps I'm a demon,
Spewed up from hell.
Or even a warlock,
Just who can tell.

Maybe a black witch,
Out seeking blood.
Who's well rewarded,
With an endless flood.

I might be found,
In a horror novel.
With powers unlimited
To make all grovel.

I must survive,
It's in my nature.
By trickery and murder,
By none so greater.

I am the darkness,
Out to envelop all.
Haunting this town,
At my beck and call.

To corner my quarry,
I'll recite a story.
And at it's end,
A conclusion so gory.

Legions of little lives,
Gone up in smoke.
By one sly and slippery,
Impossible to uncloak.

I might be unearthed,
From a dark fairy-tale.
A cruel guessing game,
If I'm male or female.

My scheming plans,
So savage and sick.
Enacted on the gullible
So easy to pick.

I cannot tell,
How many I've slain.
Towered piled bodies
In my dark domain.

My tally of hundreds,
Perhaps even thousands.
Corpses credited to me,
And my heartless hands.

Countless years ago,
Since I did appear.
This sleepy town tonight,
Wide awake with fear.

There's one special time,
Called Halloween Night.
I easily lurk in,
Delivering dark delight.

Small souls so gullible,
Look down a sink.
Where I call from,
And easily hoodwink.

My beguiled do choose
To close their eyes,
But I make each see,
Their painful demise.

I demand to know,
From what you've viewed.
Of my elusive name,
Do you dare conclude.

The clues are there,
For all to clearly see.
Hiding in plain sight,
Lies my true identity.

Any colour!
Any race!
Any religion!
I so evilly embrace!

Any child!
Any age!
Any place!
Can't escape my rage!

All that is human!
All that is holy!
All that is living!
I slaughter so slowly!

Innocent false facades,
I effortlessly project.
What's reality or false,
None ever do detect.

Enough! One last clue,
The lights I do shine.
Are dead and cold,
Beacons made to malign.

It's time to reveal,
A last but one surprise.
My name is simply,
PENNYWISE!

My last monstrous surprise,
I now finally submit.
My other name is infernally...
IT!

And if this dark poem,
Isn't your sort of thing.
Don't blame me,
Blame...Stephen King!

Hiya Georgie!

IT! Knows what scares you.
Is dedicated to Thomas Coston.