Slithering serpents, midnight chills
The shadows twist and bend at will
The hall is growing longer still
                                   The spinning sky
Has heralded I've reached my fill
                                    A  fool am I

Instead of falling on the floor
There was a chair beside the door
I sat and smiled and begged for more
                                    And all seemed well
Not knowing what it had in store
                                     I could not tell

That floating feet beneath the mind
Had chosen to be quite unkind
And proved immensely hard to find
                                       That witching hour
Scared that they'd be left behind
                                        Or worse, devoured

Dragged with screams of desperation
Sighs lined with exasperation
Could not grasp the intonation
                                       Without my feet
Doubled over there was elation
                                        At last we meet

The wails, that proved I was insane,
Crescendoed, through my thrashing brain
This clearly was not my domain
                                        I found my shoes
Only the truest friends remain
                                        Can't hold my *****