Do you wake affright at night,
Hoping for the morning light,
Reeling from most haunted dreams of
Grisly undead gore?
Do you grasp upon your nightstand
For a cross or stake with your hand
As you dread to see a shadow
Steal upon the door?
Is it Dracula or Orlock
Who has thrown your soul into shock
And whose tendrilled fingers outstretch
Toward you more and more?
Do you pray unto our Savior,
“Rescue me this instant from your
Adversary who delights in
Creeping ‘cross my floor!”
As the air grows ever crisper
In your home’s foreboding whisper,
And your heart begins to blister
In your body’s core,
You, as one beside you mutters,
“Back to sleep, and close the shutters,”
Sigh, and sheepishly turn over,
Ego badly sore.
Do not you, looking backward hence,
Wish earlier you’d had the sense
Not to watch a late night tale of
Dark phantasmal lore?
© 2011 Jacob A. Davis