Creepy Mr. Oriole

I found a diary today
Under a bridge
Shadows making the blood black as the ink it replaced
Contrasting the light of morning May


Insane fingers wrote in this
I just know
Not because the words are thick and clotted with old blood
But because the sanity of the strokes seem amiss


Rants about half-man and half-spider
Humans turned freaks with six more limbs sewn on
Tis elaborated by detailed anatomy sketches and plans
He seemed sure he could get away with it, society none the wiser


He also seemed to think he conversed with sun and moon
Both had voices in his vision of the cosmos
They told him horrible things, too evil for me to write down
In fear those thoughts would rise to my own head like a balloon


My eyes twitch and nose wrinkles at the thought of this man
Going by the moniker Mr. Oriole according to the cover
Also written in his blood
His thought process is disgusting, his motto seeming to be,"Where God can't I can"


His last entry sends shivers down my spine
He went through with his beast-human hybrid plan
A doodle of a werewolf howling at the moon should be image enough
Said he got caught and hid in the forest of pine


I can't sleep now, not a wink
I possessed the diary of insanity personified
I can just smell him now, the scent of madness like cranberries
The color of madness is equally pink


How do I know that
He's right there in front of me
I'm in his cage behind black bars and locks immensely strong
The only other person is Mr. Oriole trying to decide between weasel or rat