Bedtime Story by Anonymous

It is not all in your head

It is not just the wind

It is definitely something to worry about

The creaks are its jaws dropping slowly to the floor

Right outside your thin, fragile, weak door

That sound you hear outside

It is not the wind

But the undertaker whistling
 While he sweats and he smiles at your grave that hes digging

Shuffles are the horrors

In the corridors

The bumps down the stairs

Are creatures that seek to ensnare you

And rip you and eat you and tear you

They howl and moan to make your spirits fall

But if you let the fear subside

And your will to stay awake grow small

They will take advantage

The shadows cast by the moon do not belong to the trees branches outside

The dark corners of your room are not empty

They are home to the things that sneak and hide

In shadowy nests made out of children's teeth bones and clothes

The whistling’s not the wind it’s something else crawling through your window

So when you start drowsing and your eyes start to close

That's when they all start howling and their stomachs moan

And your blanket though cozy in bed

Holds no protection for you so thin-skinned

Against the creatures of the dark who are waking up now

And as your eyelids grow heavy alone in your bed

The monsters newborns prepare to be fed

Countless victims disappearing in their maws

With teeth shining silver in the moon

Never again to ever be saw