Halloween.

Once there was a teenage boy,
Whose self he sought out to destroy.
By day he is normal
By night he is not
As soon as sun leaves the sky,
He’s distraught.

His mission when the sun goes down is always the quite the same
Destruction of his very self is always tonight’s game

As stars retire, one by one
And up comes mornings shining sun
His hatred of own being dies,
Again, he’s like most other guys

Inflicting pain on his own self he what he’s set to do
Death by spider web or bite it often might be through

I have pictures of his nightly acts as proof of his addiction
One day they’ll be compulsory to disproving false conviction.
There has yet to be one though, as he has not succeeded
My pictures, as of currently, remain to be unneeded.

So still nobody one knows his tale
His secret, safe with me
The night though on which he succeeds
My pictures, I’ll set free.