As I lie in wait
The path that you take
Seems to be the logical choice.
You strut and you stroll
Down a path you should know
Gives no echo to a quivering voice.
My eyes watch you slow
The press of danger starts to grow
And you begin to question all noise.
My heart beating madly
Tension pushing me gladly
As I begin the night’s macabre joys.
Emelyn St. James ©