Afterwards, the days came and swept.
Placed away and restrained under lock.
It was the wandering he did in bed...
Something, something, this something kept.
An uninvited familiar knock,
Knocking on the door, just beneath his head.
Time's favorite tragedy, inept,
Amongst the chaos and face of the clock.
Beastly things lie dormant! Not at all dead.
Wondering of, until he slept,
Strategies of wolves to attack the flock..
Or the creature under his bed.
Persistently it still stepped,
Closer! Closer! Tick tock! Knock knock!
Tactful emergence to control it lead!
From attempted slumber he leapt!
Prepared for battle, dared not make a mock!
Alone, he found... in darkness instead.
Share This Poem
This Poems Story