In Regards to the Tapping
At night I wait for time to tick
While I stare through the foggy glass
That seals the bricked up doorway
Every night the stones dissolve
And I see a hallway long and dark
There stands a lonesome figure
The first night I saw his face was veiled
With gauze and wrappings all of cloth
And he tapped upon the window
I did not see him for many a year
Until a night came as dark as pitch
He came with his eyes glowing
His mouthed was shut and stitched
We looked for a while upon each other
I shivered and moaned both soft and low
Until with a tapering finger
He tapped upon the window
I shut my eyes tight to the horrid sight
The tapping still reached to my core
And then at day he went away
The bricks came back to the door
And now he lingers near every night
Staring with eyes as starved as his smile
I learned how to ignore him
At least for quite a while
Last night he did not come again
And I lay frozen, staring at black
For on my neck I felt fingernails