The Call

The Call

Deep in a darkned chamber dreary,
There came a noise that echoed eerie;
To envoke the keeper into fearing
What's beyond the sculpted door.

And with the creaking of their house beguiling,
And their imagination wildly flying,
Deep in decieving stillness peering
Ebony eyes scarce seen were leering.

As I watched my heart was beating,
For the person silently entreating,
Wasn't really there at all.
Just the dampness of the evening, and the eerie nightly call.

Then I took myself to linking,
What this person must be thinking,
To through all momentious logic, out upon the wretched floor.
And to think about it, even less than was before.

Then the flameing logs ignited,
Sending shadows looking lighted,
Dancing ridgid on the cobweb laden wall.
Never stopping once at all.

So the visitor retreated,
And the keeper then was seated.
For the presence that was there before,
Returned again, Nevermore.

And so, none was ever thought again,
Of the evilness that can
Favour fear and fiend and all,
And of the eerie nightly call.