A Question of You

Midnight strangers, dare to meet,
At the darkest hour of night,
In caverns, caves and deepest woods,
Where sunlight never peeks.
The grasping, clutching pull of
Hands, are tugging at the sleeve,
Of those who wish to depart from
Here, where darkness never leaves.
All the pities and sorrows of the
World, gather, all massed around
The entry to the depths of hell.
He lies, awaiting you, in shadowed
Corners.
Beware, if he offers you his hand,
For you will be dragged,
To the depths of oblivion.