Life At 2 A.M.

Two-thirty in the morning
just laid your head to bed
the phone rings a warning
to the echoes of your dread.

A twisted mess of covers
no enclosure from this sound
your consciousness recovers
as this fear still surrounds.

This shaking arm appeared
attached to quilted sheet
the ringing doom still neared
it never missed a beat.

No longer is there peace
in the mansion of this slumber
this haunting will not cease
your body begins to lumber

Another second of hesitation
a flash of light; a blink of an eye
before facing this desperation
someone close will soon die.