Soft whispering, in my ears, or my head?
I turn and look, see and feel the new fear.
Thick black scars on hands and wrists where it bled.
Doom sighs, shifts and shudders as it draws near,
reaches for the mask, the face it’s wearing.
A cruel dark creature of towering gore.
Long nails dig under chin and scalp, tearing.
Its grinning visage flops onto the floor.
I’m running and my doom is pursuing.
I don’t want to die, not here, alone.
I hear it laugh, my flight is amusing.
Its talons rend my flesh and piece my bone.
I wake, my fears are once again my thrall.
But to be safe I turn and face the wall.
