Winter Visit

In the nights of winter bloom
there I sat alone in my room,
Watching the winter nights unveil
a landscape of ghostly white,
Under the moonlight so pale.

When there I spied, with my weary eye
from across the land, where the woods divide,

A lone form approaching, from this cold night.

Who could this be?
This stranger of mine,
Approaching my house
On a night where most would die.

My first instinct, of course, was clear
to grab my coat and escort him near
out of this bitter night, but as my sight cleared,

I observed this man,
though I dare call it that now.
Making his way through this cold,
bitter land somehow.

He staggered and jerked
like a diseased calf just birthed.
He wore a dark veil
obscuring his face and his girth.

Would I have known what I know now
I'd have killed the lights
and hid under shroud,

Instead, I waited, watching and abated

As this figure stumbled to my very door.

Through my window, I watched with horrid awe
as the man reached out
to knock and call
out my name,

How he knew, I know not.
Only that its arm was sinewy, spiderlike, full of rot.

Longer than any man, twisted and wrong
He knocked and called
for what seemed like so long.

The sound I made must have been so soft
so imperceptible, I can remember it not.

But the figure turned as if it heard.

And I saw its face
clear and unblurred.

The face of horror
stared into mine,
As it approached my window
and started to climb
right outside my room where it continued to stare,
Into my soul, my fears now laid bare.

What was its mouth had started to move,
whispering words beyond my room.

I fainted then, of that I'm sure
For when I awoke,
I was gone of the cur.

But even still
I awake in fear,
Of the demon standing
oh so near.

For when it whispered
to me in the gloom,

The only word I could make out was

"soon"