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I lie in my hair,
that's crinkly and cream,
and looks like the fleece of a sheep.
Fog at the window,
swirls through the dark,
while I'm pretending to sleep.
Wave round my wrists,
white ruffles so soft;
in the moon's beams shines sweet lace,
on the frilled yoke,
of my long white nightgown.
My heart's now starting to race.
Looms the full moon,
black clouds scudding past.
What are these shadows I see?
Tap tap tap tap, at the window -
what's that? - only the branch of a tree?
Out in the yard, our trusty dog howls.
I picture some scenes on TV,
I saw once, which showed,
in a far-away land,
a vampire dark horror story.
I've read spooky tales, seen vamp films galore;
I've recognised signs that I've seen;
Far through the woods,
where the old hall once stood,
I've sensed a wraith watching me.
The illness and death,
of a friend who'd had dreams -
all this once seemed fantasy.
I know now it's real,
as there steps from the dark,
a ghastly ghoul staring at me.
Lush long raven coils,
face lurid wax white,
dark eyes which piece right to my soul.
I try to move scream,
but I find I am froze,
as fear overwhelms spasms me.
Oh Mother oh Dad,
so near but so far!
God rest my soul which must flee!
It's breath on my neck,
when the moon glints upon,
the gold cross I wear to bless me.
A hideous scream!
A pane's shattered glass!
My parents and brothers rush in!
I cling to my mom,
My dad's looking out
into the dark of the trees.
Oh it's not a dream
These things they are real
Not just in weird Gothic tales.
If goodness exists,
then so does the dark,
this we now know, I now see.
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