It\'s in the corner again,
the thing from my dreams.
Why does it stand there,
what does it mean?
I ask what it wants,
it gives no reply.
Just standing and staring,
with its cold white eyes.
It lifts its arms,
reaching for me.
Impossibly long,
I try to flee.
But it grabs my legs
from across the room.
It pulls me close,
its figure looms.
I think its speaking,
its whispering strange words.
Closer and closer,
trying to be heard.
I shut my eyes,
clasped my ears.
When I opened them,
it had disappeared.
The sun had risen,
its rays peaked through my window.
Only the marks of its hands,
did my skin show.
I had survived another night,
had escaped from the horror.
Of the latest visit,
from the thing in the corner.