The Visit

Night coming down on the land shaded red,
As cunning and quick as a fox.
I rest in a cold lonesome room and bed,
When sharply upon my door knocks;

A strange subject standing,
A freak on my landing,
The twilight refuses to show.

I stay here and wonder,
I shake from the thunder,
I fear what it is I don't know.

With a moon resting dull,
Now the night comes in full,
A horrible shriek from there calls.

With a pulsating head,
I vacate this tense bed;
Curious the way this noise falls.

Outside rain dances to thunder the drum,
While lightning exposes the void.
As I creep, I peak upon toes dead numb,
The knocking is quicker deployed.

Advancing the floor I see there is more,
to this unwelcome guest received.
Slowing my pace now i reach for the door,
It opens my eyes are deceived;

Before me stands still,
In a downpours chill,
This oddly shadow cast creature.

And even as still,
The lighting is nil,
Yet I can make out main features;

Without hair skull exposed,
Lacking eyes lips and nose,
Black tongue behind finely filed spikes.

It's breath suggests death,
And the chest 'neath it's neck,
Bares broken ribs sharpened as pikes.

Behind the pointy bones,
In the gore there is shown,
My caller is lacking it's heart.

So as seemingly stoned,
I now open my home,
In hopes that this beast wont depart.

Curious to know how this thing is alive,
I've opened my doors and let it inside,
I'll ask it some questions and then maybe i,
Should cut off its head to see if it dies.