Mr. Silhouette

I see you there.
Why do you always come in the darkest times?
Lightning will crash and thunder will roar; you do not seem to shudder in this storm.
The wind will billow, the rain will claw at the windows; yet you stand unmoved.
The oak down by the creek, will ache and moan and wish to be free, yet you remain emotionless to the old tree.
The girl in her bed will sniffle and whine, for your silhouette is the reason why.
You are splattered across the bedroom floor, slinking across the room.
With the wind’s moans, you come closer still, why are you so frightful?
She pulls the covers over her head, in hopes you won’t reach her bed.
Do you not know when to stop?
The lightning flashes and the thunder rumbles, glowing light has caught on the oak.
The rain tries to save its life, but its efforts are in vain; the mighty tree is now surrounded by smoke.
Another has awakened; now silhouette, will you let the poor girl be?
The footsteps are approaching, the girl’s cries are drowned out by the chaos outside.

Quickly; quickly my dark shadowed friend; across the ceiling and up the chimney you must flee.
The bricks are cold, but your heart is colder; take your nightmares and leave.
The oak has finally been let free, it lies defeated on the ground.
The sky sobs, the thunder playing a mournful tune; the lightning is now in you.
Do not look at the window, I am begging you.
The little girl is watching, and she is quite scared.
But you do not listen, of course you don’t.
You are fond of nightmares.
With a smile, you turn, the fire from the tree is now in your eyes, the thunder is in your laugh.
Cruel you are, silhouette, for the girl is now screaming louder than the wind can howl.
The footsteps have picked up a greater speed, and now you choose to leave.

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