Can you hear the voice calling this night?
Is this all a trick within my mind?
Because somewhere in the darkened shadows
I can hear something calling out my name
And I hide under the covers, let it go away

But curiosity takes me to the window, to look out
To look out on a dark night of hidden fear
I open my window and on the chilled wind I hear it
Like a voice from a secret grave still calling my name
"Leave me be, who are you to haunt me in the dark"?

But I fear my cry goes unheard as the voice calls again
I dress myself, dorn my boots, to solve this mystery
For I alone only seem to hear the voice calling to me
Calling to the shivers that are running down my spine
I go down the stairs and I hesitate before opening the door

I step out and an icy mist seems to surround the air
Chilled to my bones, I follow the voice that comes again
It takes me to the edge of an abandoned church, long forgotten
And somewhere between the overgrown graves it is there
Beckoning me to enter this place that belongs to the dead

I wonder hopelessly to myself, why did not anyone see me?
Surely someone would have stopped me this cold night
Especially from entering this deserted place of ghosts
But once again the voice comes calling like a spectre
And I find myself being drawn towards one forgotten grave

And the horror strikes at me at long last
As I read the name and see only my own, I am dead
It was no voice calling out, it was my own voice in my head
For I did not believe I had gone from the land of the living
And once again I know I must sleep, sleep forever more




copyright Chris Smith December 8th 2009