I had once herd a tale of both gooblins and goblins
that hide by the house on the hill full of robins

where no cats would lie
not a feline in site
in that case nor a horse and toboggan

If when the sun set
by your luck you'd have met
a most suddenly sense, you'll most likely regret

to inform that the norm is is most vital
a chorus recital while sleeping, the feeling is seeping
of course,   he fears for the reaping

To come?
Is it done?
has it happened?

No third party captions
his captor
a mind full of rapture

to hear ever after
a rapping, a tapping
his own hands just clapping

the door doesn't move
but the grooves in the wall are expanding
these dreams so demanding

Demented dimensions
his body retention of fear and the queer
have him panting

gasps without asking
a sublime such as this
and the temperance of bliss

have the curtains been called
or is it all but a miss
guided ventures of vengeance

His soul but a remnance of courage
is left in the depths
and before us he slept

such a man who believes
in trees where the robins at ease
do enjoy such a breeze

That breath air in the room
where he lay quite awake
Till his wake