He pulls his white
Blanket tighter around him,
Listening to the nighttime sounds.
They had come tonight.
The shallow panting,
The raking claws.
Some of the beasts dare
To crawl out of the shadows,
Dare to stand in the light,
But their leaders reign
Them back into the dark,
Telling them to be patient,
That they will soon tear into
Flesh and guzzle down blood,
But only if they wait.
Now we return to the little boy,
The innocent child who couldn't sleep
Due to the restless shadows.
His tired eyes,
His panicked breath,
His rapid pulse beating in his ears.
His face is ghostly as
He silently prays
for the monsters go away.
Alas, they have other ideas.
They are hungry and sick of waiting.
Out of the shadows they prowl.
Their sickly gaze and deadly claws
Are the last thing the child sees
Before they stain his blanket crimson.
