LA SANTA MUERTE
Welcome to the black saint of death.
Welcome with my last dying breath.
You grant desires and hopeless wishes.
In return we must sleep with the fishes.
Sacrifices are your pride and joy.
Then you treat us like a broken toy.
You stand there with your scythe and crown.
And your dark face bears a big frown.
We haven’t seen you for many years.
Now you are back in our deepest fears.
THE DEAD GAME
Is this a fairytale or a horror story?
Is the princess entering the grounds
of her dream mansion or a house of horrors?
Will her wand protect her?
If it was up to me, she will be entering
the house from her deepest, darkest fears.
Her wand will be whisked away from her hand.
The gates behind her lock shut.
She begins to realize that she
just made a big mistake.
Too bad, she has more mistakes to make
as she continues to walk toward the house.
What happens next?
I will leave it to your imagination.