Once upon a lighted stool
There sat a blanket soft and cool
It kept none safe and wrapped in wool
Forgotten as the wooden stool
A slow, soft creak upon the floor which
had no tread since years before.

“Come find me,” said a voice so low,
“Come find me, I’ll show you where to go.”

And witnessed no one a shadow creeping
Faster, forward, as if leaping
Up upon the lighted bench,
It shed its darkness
Its fists it clenched.
None did stop it, it grew more.

“I sit here on this wooden stool
Come save me from the shadows cruel.”

Further and further on the floor.
The shadow grew,
Did not retreat.
Enveloping the blanket,
it moved in a way
That surely beat
It's chosen prey.

“It’s coming! Help me! There it goes!”
Up and up the shadow rose.

And soon the lamplight
Flickered like day
And the voice...
It went away
And again the stool sat so still
Upon it, the blanket
As it will.

The end of time drawing so near
And no one waits to witness it here.

Once upon a lighted stool
There sat a blanket soft and cool
It kept none safe and wrapped in wool
Forgotten as the wooden stool
No more shadows,
No more voice,
No one witness
But not by choice.