Twisted Game

[weeun]

The first stanza isn't good, and the 'Him' is the Devil, or something else evil. The whole point is that you don't know who he is, just that he seems evil.
Twisted Game
Welcome to,
The annual games,
Watch you don’t fall,
There are many flames.

First up is Amy,
A beauty to behold,
But her gentle eyes,
Hold mysteries untold.

Watch as she tries,
Desperately to fight,
But she’ll be dead before,
The morning light.

Call in James,
With his spiked-up hair,
Now, try your best,
And let’s give him a scare.

He runs and screams,
The crowd goes wild,
But what gave us the right,
To hurt this poor child?

Here comes Ashley,
A bully, quite right,
Tear her to shreds,
During the solemn night.

The crowd loves it,
Listen to them cheer,
But as screams echo,
I shed a woeful tear.

This is twisted,
So sick and so wrong,
Whatever made us sing,
This horrifying song?

As the crowd grows silent,
The spotlight appears,
Centred on me,
Highlighting my tears.

I am a ringmaster,
Of these sick little games,
And if ever something is wrong,
I am the one He blames.

I cannot stand up against Him,
If I did, I would die,
So all I can do,
Is sit here and cry.

As the crowd waits,
I fall to my knees,
I look at the dead,
And time seems to freeze.

A haunting voice,
Calls my name,
Commanding me to stand,
And finish the game.

So I do as I am asked,
And stand up tall,
I look out to the arena,
And I slowly watch them fall.

The crowd screams,
Yells of delight,
But I cannot continue this,
Not this terrible fight.

I hear the echo of Him,
And I curse under my breath,
So I slump back in my chair,
And continue to watch the death.

The game is finished,
But not for long,
The crowd starts up,
Its dreary song.

Paraded out,
In their birthday suit,
With handcuffs,
And chains on each foot.

These are the children,
We allow to die,
They look around confusedly,
And begin to cry.

I hear Him again,
Through the ringing in my ears,
And as I slump back in my chair,
My eyes cloud from my fears.

I cannot do anything,
So I watch with weary eyes,
And as the tears spill down my cheeks,
I pray that no one dies.

[c.e.s.love]

Dreary, but significant. i like it. keep the poems coming!