Who’s there? Who’s there upon my stair?
The stench of fear is in the air
My heart wilts, with thy glide
That eerie repose in thy stride
Past the Rose’s revelry
Under Bird’s sweet artistry
With scythe and sceptre at his side
That eerie repose in his stride
Through the door, in the house
A creak, a stir, I start to rouse
Affront by ghastly hooded shadow
For which great men are weeping widow
These fears must be confusing
Viewed from the outside
Borne aloft on potent waves
Of emotions tides
I struggle against delusions
Surrender all control
Drowning in the waters
As the cold enters my soul
My moods must be confusing
And it must be cruel to see
A soul become a captive
To pain and misery