The Call.
You look into the mirror
You look real hard
You wonder if you should ask the question
You are so unsure.
You see what is on the surface
But you want to see within
You want to see the monster
That waits for the nighttime to begin.
You step closer to the mirror,
You want to look harder,
You know there is something there,
That there is another.
There's a reddening of the eyes,
And the pupils decrease,
And the upbeat of the heart,
Makes you feel a sense of unease.
You look to the window,
You watch it become another mirror,
As the night falls behind it,
The skies growing darker.
There is a chill in the air,
It enters via the window,
It is the calling of the night,
It is the beckoning of the shadows.
You look to the table,
Then there you are beside it,
Filling your pockets,
Taking what you need.
You pause for a moment,
There is a thought within,
But you discard it,
It doesn't fit within.
You look to the door,
Then you have your hand on the handle,
Open close; you leave within a moment,
And the breeze blows the candle,
Out.
