The moon whispers frightening tales
Calling out to me, mocking my tears
But yet I still see him, stalking through the night
He thinks that he has won
That he has caught me now, even though I ran
Color dances across my vision, black and gold,
Then finally red
The artist reaches down to me, sculpting my face
While the golden mother watches him
Smiling all the while
As I am erased and transformed into my unbidden death
A laugh erupts the silence as I take my last breath