On the twisting paths where red and brown leaves lie,
The tranquil setting merely fools the eye—
For just beyond the peaceful veil, foul demons lurk,
Full of lusting hunger, keen to go berserk.
The babbling brooks between the trees conceal
Undreamt of horrors, hellish and surreal.
Festering, infected wounds in Nature’s orders
That seep across the day-to-day world’s borders.
Like charming vampires, and alluring succubi,
Horror true conspires to fool the mortal eye.
What sorcerous chicanery the monsters do employ
As they produce their grand trompe l’oeil!
Ere in search of fun you take your leave,
Recall that “Devils practice always to deceive”,
And entice you in to something worse than dying.
Recall all this, but know: I may be lying.