Who’s that standing outside my door.
I see your shadow in the crack upon the floor,
Two dark smudges distinguishing a presence, but no more.
I sneak up slow and quiet, keeping to the side, rubbing against the wall.
Creeping my way forward like a mindless ragdoll,
Hoping and praying that the shadow doesn’t utter a call.
Finally I stand in front of the door, alert to any noise that I might hear.
Then a sound! Good greef, that’s the sound of breathing in my ear!
And there I stood listening, paralyzed with fear.
This isn’t the first time I am ashamed to say.
I’ve stood this ground more than once to my great dismay.
A chance for a change, yes today is the day.
With all the courage I can muster, to the peephole I lean,
Towards a tiny light, that soft glowing beam,
And with every fiber of my being screaming to run, I press up my eye and stand perplexed, but what is seen.
And then I hear it, an oh so subtle, scraping upon my door
A scratching sound upon my door…
Skreaching, scratching, schriching, outside my door.
And then to my dread, came a pounding so loud,
A knocking like no other, to this I must avow!
A banging most obtrusive, awakening me back to the now!