When the moon is bight
They howl with might
They bite and they fight!
At midnight.

When the hour is near
They smirk and they leer
There's so much to fear!
At midnight.

They bark and they call
They drop and you fall
They crawl and they brawl!
At midnight.

It's harvesting time
and the bells -how they chime!
And each toll is a soul in its passing.
-A slash from a scythe
-A stolen young life
There's nothing but strife!
At midnight.

And each day, every night,
they force you to fight
in the dark with no light
At midnight.

The nightmare draws closer- becoming more real
It shakes and it chokes until all that you feel
Is the surge of the fear and the pain and the hate,
Being forced to your knees to beg at Hell's gate.
And there they will taunt you,
There they will haunt you,
There they will want you to cry for your life!
And there in the midst of the claws and the pain
Is where you will die and wake up again.

And so, there they loom,
In the dark above the moon,
Behind the somber tune
Of midnight.

View go-a-green-a's Full Portfolio
Beavis's picture

Well done!

Nice write and very well crafted. I really enjoyed this.