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Sep 2020
In shadows of the cold dark night
There live a creature created from pure fright
It is he who walks in the night
When I stroll in the day he does not appear
Yet as midnight aproaches my body is filled with fear
I wonder as my walk gathers some speed
where is this evil creature with his unspeakable deed
When I finnaly arive at my front door and ruffle the keys
I hear in the night a sound that turns my blood cold
For I know it is he who walks in the night
Written by
Z the poet  houston
(houston)   
226
 
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