• thesolitaire 3w

    Night Terror

    At the time of the darkest of nights,
    When the crows cry in macabre delight,
    The monster has me in it's sights.

    I feel the chase,
    A stalking figure,
    Trying to catch me in it's embrace.

    I am screaming,
    I am feeling,
    Alas, I wish 'twas but dreaming.

    I experience this on every morrow of the day,
    The anticipation of what will come this way,
    What sudden screams I'll make.

    In those darkest of nights, I can make no error,
    For it is coming,
    The night terror.