- Books, Literature, and Writing
Running around without a sound,
They nimbly hop up the stairs.
They creep and crawl down the hall,
To the bedroom that we share.
Sinking silently in the shadows,
They slither up to our beds.
Burrowing quickly through the covers,
They dig deep into our heads.
They dance their jig of darkling delight
And fill our dreams with dread.
We toss and turn in our beds
trying to rid them from our heads.
Yet try as we might, we cannot fight
these darkling creatures of the night.
Dark shapes take form until the morn,
When in cold sweat we are reborn,
And fervently welcome the day.