The Stalker

Walking through the field with something following.

The field was foggy,
The sky dark and deep,
All I could hear
Were the steps of his feet.

The clouds covered the sky,
As I quickened my pace
Under the moon's false light,
And I ran to the gate.

A tug at my shirt,
I fell to the ground,
Then pulled myself up
He made not a sound.

The trees whispered my name,
I slipped on the grass.
The stalker was hushed
I reach the gate at last.

Then I turned to my follower,
Looked him in the eye,
It was then that I bid
My playful pony goodbye.