• The chill of the night,
    What I feel is real.
    Eyes follow me up and down the steps.

    At night I am afraid to sleep,
    The light of the moon ghastly.
    Taunting me,
    Alluding to my fears.

    Then I see them.

    Clearly, little children,
    Hands joined together,
    Feet dancing above my head.
    In a circle,
    Ring-around-the-roses,
    Jump.
    Fall.
    Ring-around-the-roses.

    Running down the moon-splashed hallway
    Afraid for my sanity,
    Opening the door to the outside,
    And there the children be.

    Haunting me,
    The moon shinging through their little bodies.
    What has happened to them?

    There's one thing I cannot imagine
    That scares me the most.
    Nothing more than
    The haunting eyes, the ghastly bodies
    of Ghosts.