She came in like a rolling cloud.
Like raging thunder.
Upon a dark horse; proud.
And wanting only to bring us under.
With destruction on her mind.
She rode her steed forward.
Through the wind.
Through the horror...
She does not stop.
She does not care.
She is made of shadow and wind and teardrops.
And she is here to scare.
We've all met her.
You know that.
For her name is Nightmare.
And she haunts our thoughts