In the velvet shroud of midnight\'s embrace,
The Grim Reaper descends, his scythe a gleaming arc,
Cloaked in shadows that whisper of endless dark,
His skeletal fingers trace the air with grace.
The Boogeyman lurks in closets of fear,
A hulking form of nightmares twisted and raw,
Eyes glowing like coals in the depth of the maw,
He emerges, hungry, drawing ever near.
Their worlds collide in a crypt of forgotten sin,
Reaper\'s bony grip claims the monster\'s thigh,
Boogeyman\'s claws rake the cloak, a feral cry,
As death and dread entwine, skin to skin.
The scythe falls clattering, forgotten on stone,
Reaper\'s hollow sockets burn with illicit fire,
He mounts the beast, thrusting with undead desire,
Bones grinding against fur in a rhythmic moan.
Boogeyman arches, his monstrous length unsheathed,
Thick and veined, pulsing with shadowed might,
Reaper impales himself, gasping in the night,
Riding the terror, their union bequeathed.
Claws dig into ribs that hold no beating heart,
Fangs sink into neck of eternal night,
They fuck like apocalypse, fierce and stark,
Cum of the damned spilling in spectral light.
In ecstasy\'s grip, the veil between thins,
Reaper\'s seed cold as frost on fevered skin,
Boogeyman\'s roar shakes the realms within,
Two legends lost in forbidden, carnal sins.
As dawn threatens, they part with a final thrust,
Promising return to this unholy tryst,
Death and fear forever entwined in lust,
In the ether where nightmares and endings persist.