Haunt The Ghost

Maybe belongs in prose.

I'm going to take someone, the first person I see in the middle of nowhere,
And tie them down in the back of a van.
I'll make them believe this world is hell,
And I am the demon without the headlines,
Just laugh lines which sporadically switch to sullen frowns.
Scream for me and I will cry with you.
I want to torture them, for a week at least,
Straining at their bindings until sanity breaks.
I don't want to kill them.
I want to cause them so much pain that they die.
I'll have mirrors placed all around,
And a ouija board adorned with candles and incense.
The moment life slips from their body, I will hold a séance
I wish to converse with agony, and relish in the madness.
Delusional hallucinations of a weeping girl,
I want to distort my mind to believe in something more.
And haunt the ghost's of those I hunt.