Things
There are things about
Lurking near me when I put out the light
Creeping stealthily the house throughout
Each and every endless night
I don't know what they want
These things with feathers and scales
They peek at me, they whisper and taunt
And tell me horrible tales
Hidden behind a nightstand
Or in the darkness, under a bed
These lost souls, they misunderstand
Then become angry, and chew up my bedspread
I know they think I've summoned them here
Through some dark and ancient spell
They are waiting and not of good cheer
They leave footprints, and they smell
I hear their pleas, Maestro, send us back!"
They don't know I've no knowledge of the Arts
If I tell them they'll have me for a snack
They'll claw out my eyes, my soul, my heart
Best I put up with these nightly visitations
And let them think me a stubborn master
While I search for the incantations
That will help me avoid disaster
So I let the things run rampant
And occasionally I give them tasks
I pretend I'm strong and arrogant
I wear the Maestro's mask
I don't know if I'll ever find the ritual
To rid me of these beasts
All my attempts remain ineffectual
A floundering, failing High Priest
—Dawn E. Lacey | 
