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As time would show its unfavoring face
And I find myself in this circumstance,
I know this is well below God’s good grace.
Being alone has put my mind in some kind of trance
In the darkness, I can hear the walls moan,
There is no storm, but ‘tis still thundering.
With every other step the floor does groan,
as if someone were here, late, plundering.
I heard the old basement door creak loudly
Slowly I crept out of bed to the hall
I feel the human shadows surround me
This is it. My lonely demise. My fall.
I cried. I shrieked. I tried sprinting away.
Metal chains held me back. I was the prey.