There's always something underneath,
Something that fears the sun,
Be careful when you turn up stones,
It isn't always very fun,
Not always fun at all.
For under stones after a day,
You'll find the worms and spiders crawling,
You do not want to know for what
in dark earth they've been trawling,
Don't ask of them at all.
And under logs for years have stood,
Are scorpions and things that writhe,
In dark and wet they bide their time,
And sunless do they make their hive,
No sun to seek at all.
And under houses centuries old,
Do rotting things gaze at the boards,
They listen to your creaking steps,
And gurgle with their vocal chords,
They never speak at all.
And under mountains thousand-score,
In caves where dripping water falls,
Do things for many ages lie,
They squelch and squelch in blackened halls,
But never sleep at all.
And even under those, beyond,
The fathomless beneath the dark,
There's one who waits with grinding teeth,
In one small room that flickers, sparks,
And he's no fun at all
YOU ARE READING
Never told Nursery Rhymes
PoetryAre these the sort of things you like, my dear? the stories and the rhymes that make you shake? are you the sort who seeks darkness and fear? I surely hope you are, for your own sake. In here you'll meet the fear who has a face, in here you'll feel...
