The Candyman's Call
In shadows dim, a legend whisperedlow,
Of Candyman, a spirit dark and woe.
A razor blade, a tale that chills the spine,
A summoning that haunts with every line.
But beneath the fear, a truth untold,
A story twisted, as secrets unfold.
Once, a man, a soul of gentle grace,
Daniel Robitaille, his name to embrace.
An artist skilled, his colors bright and bold,
But fate's cruel hand, his destiny it molded.
In a time of strife, a divide so deep,
Where white and black, secrets they would keep.
Forbidden love, a spark that dared to ignite,
A woman's heart, enticed by his light.
But prejudice lurked, a fire to ignite,
A jealous mob, fueled by hate's dark night.
They hunted Daniel, their vengeance to claim,
Tortured and slain, his body stained with shame.
His spirit rose, a vengeful, haunting cry,
A curse unleashed, a legend to defy.
"Candyman," they'd say, with fear in their eyes,
As his ghostly form, as bittersweet as lies.
But in this legend, a twist we find,
A tale of loss and a broken mind.
For Daniel's torment, a pain so deep,
A soul betrayed, a wound that would not sleep.
The razor blade, not a weapon of dread,
But a tool of art, where dreams were shed.
He carved his stories, on canvas and skin,
Seeking beauty in a world of sin.
The candy he offered, a symbol of grace,
A sweetness to heal, a respite from fate's chase.
But fear blinded, their hearts filled with dread,
The innocent offering, misunderstood and shed.
So, let us remember, as we tell this tale,
The truth behind the shadows, the veil.
Candyman, a spirit torn and lost,
A reminder of the cost of hate and loss.
For in the darkest corners, hope can reside,
Where legends twist and secrets they confide.
Let us embrace compassion, let fear be gone,
And seek the truth beneath the urban's song.
© All Rights Reserved
Of Candyman, a spirit dark and woe.
A razor blade, a tale that chills the spine,
A summoning that haunts with every line.
But beneath the fear, a truth untold,
A story twisted, as secrets unfold.
Once, a man, a soul of gentle grace,
Daniel Robitaille, his name to embrace.
An artist skilled, his colors bright and bold,
But fate's cruel hand, his destiny it molded.
In a time of strife, a divide so deep,
Where white and black, secrets they would keep.
Forbidden love, a spark that dared to ignite,
A woman's heart, enticed by his light.
But prejudice lurked, a fire to ignite,
A jealous mob, fueled by hate's dark night.
They hunted Daniel, their vengeance to claim,
Tortured and slain, his body stained with shame.
His spirit rose, a vengeful, haunting cry,
A curse unleashed, a legend to defy.
"Candyman," they'd say, with fear in their eyes,
As his ghostly form, as bittersweet as lies.
But in this legend, a twist we find,
A tale of loss and a broken mind.
For Daniel's torment, a pain so deep,
A soul betrayed, a wound that would not sleep.
The razor blade, not a weapon of dread,
But a tool of art, where dreams were shed.
He carved his stories, on canvas and skin,
Seeking beauty in a world of sin.
The candy he offered, a symbol of grace,
A sweetness to heal, a respite from fate's chase.
But fear blinded, their hearts filled with dread,
The innocent offering, misunderstood and shed.
So, let us remember, as we tell this tale,
The truth behind the shadows, the veil.
Candyman, a spirit torn and lost,
A reminder of the cost of hate and loss.
For in the darkest corners, hope can reside,
Where legends twist and secrets they confide.
Let us embrace compassion, let fear be gone,
And seek the truth beneath the urban's song.
© All Rights Reserved