it was not quite morning when i woke in my bed
in the doorway there was darkness and a black figure i read
standing in the doorway in silence, not a word, nothing said
i could just make out its eyes: yellow, and black with a hue almost red
it was staring at me. filling me full with dread
i saw it's hands rested on the doorframe with fingers wide-spread
i tried not to scream but an airy hiss left my head
just as all of my courage and sanity fled
i swear this figure, back into the darkness it bled
until i could no longer tell it from the shadows at the foot of my bed