Wednesday, September 08th, 2010

In the Midnight Hour

Just a whisper, turn to touch it,
feel the blackness with cold breath,
lurking, smelling, watching, sneaking,
hide and seek with Mr. Death

In and out of shadows fly,
movements, glimpses, knotted fear,
behind the trees, slinking, slinking,
black and empty, ever near!

Quiet now! It comes closer!
Shhh! No movement! All is still.
Soft and misted, silky moonlight
shrouds a figure on the hill.

Feel it searching, closing distance,
speedy steps through silent night,
slipping in and out of shadows,
hard to glimpse in murky light.

Black claws rip like bony daggers,
cleaving flesh and soul from bone!
The spectre, with its eyes ablazing,
comes, at last, to claim its own.