A figure in the dark
As we turn the pages
As we go throw the ages
As we pass the stages
We can run,
We can hide,
But they will find use,
What to do?
Were to go?
They will follow use,
Please help, we plea
We are scared.
Wait, what's that I can see?
A figure painted black by the night sky,
There is know light and know stars shining through the trees!
The figure comes closer,
I turn to flee, I cant, it holds me back
I must run from my problems,
But I cant they hold me tight.
My fists clenched my nerves are high,
My spirits sink into the moss beneath my quivering feet
The figures grip loosens
I turn and look at it in the eyes
Its eyes were blood red with power
Its teeth raiser sharp
Its grip strong
Its gaze piercing my skin
My pleas are heard only by the trees surrounding me and the figure
My voice echoes then dies
It muffles my mouth
Then speaks in a soft comforting voice
I get free but I don't flee
My feet are routed firmly to the ground
My fear is gone
Just him, this figure
Am I dreaming?
Will he help me?
Or will he hurt me?
He seams nice
So I trust him though I shouldn't
Who is he?
He is my life
He is.