Eyes in the night peering down on the young.
In the night the darkness it overcome.
Looking at what could be the last breath.
Wondering if it is the Angel of Death.
Night after night making it through somehow.
Without screaming or running what happens now?
Years from the past, years in to the future.
Seeing they not here for your torture.
Gliding across and welcome to stay.
Soon upon realizing they prevent the dismay.
of life with many quirks and demands.
They protect from those making commands.
All those who were young and life was a mess
was it the spirits or the adults that were pests?
Seemingly now but not very clear.
It is to help, the reason they’re here.
At night when come to turn down,
the creeks and the bumps make a great sound.
Why is it being that everything seems dank
and yet now it is comfort not a mistake.
Look at the ceiling and look at the walls.
Seeing the army with delicate claws.
Teeth never shown it would be only a threat.
Knowing in mind neither a pet.
Feeling all warm in you bed
is this the hand of undead.
Cozzy, warm needed to sleep
the comfort from the deep.
What is it may wonder and warn?
Come not to save but do unto harm.
Night after night is the only true test.
For night after night in mourning take breath.
Is it merely a trick of the mind?
Finding comfort in the sublime.
Merely thought of a protector and friend.
That would explain why there is no end.
Pick up a book or look at the television.
See it there the same as your vision.
How could this be seen by another?
How could it be when you know not eachother?
Seeing in mirror a little bit of fright.
Sometimes images are different in the light.
Here it is standing to be sure.
Why does it seem to assure?
It is a trick to bring you in?
Stories of trickery doing people in.
Don’t stand to close perhaps a thought.
This is what wise say and is taught.
Then why is it when getting along
life is a trick and wonderful song.
Going against seems to lead to pain.
Doubting, while others call you insane.
It is not in your mind this delicate flower.
Feeling in your soul the true power.
Welcoming the pleasure, perhaps eternal life.
Living today without any strife.
It is written only fools go to the house.
They go to the house of witch’s and louse.
What is a fool prancing in the woods?
Offering temptations to bring in the food.
What in delicate mind does this play?
Is it tempation or showing the way?