the door is open
so you walk out
to look at the stars
and stalk about.
the moon is shining
bright and clear
to stop you in your tracks
and stir up your fears
you keep walking for you have strong will.
a fog begins to swirl
your uneasy so you twirl
as you hear
the whowl of the wind
or somthing else queer
you start to jog
and then to run
wishing for the shining sun
you trip and fall over a rock
you get back up to see
that your in the middel of a cemetary
a hand reaches out
from the grimy soil
makes your stomach
bubble and boil
more and more hands appear
as you scream
showing off your fear
it is to late
for you are caught.
an unfortuante end
to an unfortunate plot.