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What do you see as you lie in bed
underneath the covers, the lights gone dead?
Do you see the shadows creeping,
stretching their broken fingers upon your feet?
Or do you see the crack of light
under the door fading into nothingness?
What do you see as your imagination runs wild,
as you lie alone, shivering in the cold?
Do you see a shadow form, blacker than the night,
watching you from the corner of the room?
Or do you wonder whether there is something
hiding ‘neath your bed?
What do you see, child? What do you see?
-The Elusive Scribe 02042017-