The Duality of Pan
Another victim, another prize.
Here's one positively pint-size.
No one ever really knows
where my shadow truly goes.
Searching far and searching wide
for children toward death, to guide.
Lonely souls in dire straights,
souls too young to know hate.
I gather into my limbo fold
to dance and sing, for fun untold.
Where love and peace abound galore,
close your eyes, believe, and soar.
Satan or savior, you may decide.
In Neverland my Lost Boys, deathly glide.
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: