Laying alone in dark silence,
I first hear footsteps down the hall.
Then laughing voices that convince
Me, I am not alone at all.
So, up I spring to the next room,
But I find no-one waiting there.
Just a cold and empty gloom
That lingers in the midnight air.
So cold it chills me to the bone.
I see, set open, the front door.
As I feel the house creek and groan,
Walking barefoot across the floor.
There again, I hear the laughing,
And wonder if the jokes on me.
Though not quite consciously quaffing,
The whole situation I see.
Then I feel it touch my body,
The chill it lays upon my skin.
My heartbeat jumps, as my prickly
Neck hairs reveal the presence within.
Suddenly I see the sickness
Inflicted on my every breath.
The cold air in all it's thickness
A spirit calling to my death.
A ghost that haunts me night by night.
I wonder does he know he's dead?
Fearing sleep, I leave on the light,
And place the earphones on my head.
So I won't hear what the voices tell
In my midnight reality;
But still must walk the halls of hell,
To shut doors opened but to me.
[This message has been edited by Michael (edited 01-12-2000).]