A Haunting

Oh strange suited figure,

Strangely framed in midnight’s window,

Steady smile unflinched

by wind that taunts trees

and bids them unwillingly dance.

I stand, entranced by

Your ghostly visit until,

Rain runs like veins down

The dark glass, sadly

distorting benign eyes

with unreal tears which blind

Your presence and break

Your spell, summoning

You back to the hell

Of your own creation.

Oh turn from the window,

Save yourself and forget

The dark and secret fears

which light will not erase.

Say a prayer

Bolt the door and hope

that the Terror is not

Already inside.

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