'Tis ThAt and Nothing More

Awake or am I dreaming, as from my window I hear a gasp, A sickly rasp,
Is it someone crying? Or worse is it
—Dying?

I barely hear a tapping, a methodical consistent rapping,
Coming from my window sill

My room, so dark so dreary,
Surely I must be dreaming, as no one can be at my window
—Leering,
Leering from my window sill.

Lightning and thunder loudly clapping
I again waken to hear the rasping,
Faint echo of laughing—
Laughing outside my window still

Frantically glancing, expecting to see demons dancing
Nothing do I see,
As there can be no one, no one in this room
but me!

Dare I venture peeking? Or further seeking?
This phantom, this unholy reeking
That may be outside my windowsill?

Reaching out from my bed,
with foreboding dread, from which I draw the curtains.
"What foulness is out there?" I said

There is a presence, of that I am certain

I yank them back full of fear, as I begin to scream,
As I realize this is not a dream,
For at my window's base,
is an evil and ghastly face

Neither rasp nor laugh does it make,
Nor movement that I can follow,
Into my eyes it stares, eyes dead and hollow
—A stare, a stare I could not break

Crazed with fear, I chose to ask to put to task
"Oh foul spirit, what is thy reason being, what are thou seeking, Why the leering,
Leering from my windowsill?"

Its stare never wavering, I still wish to believe I am dreaming,
Just inches from this ghastly face, I curse and beseech him
"Begone, begone from my window base!"

Nay, words it does not utter, causing me to constantly shudder,
I wonder from what bowels, from what evil place,
Could cast forth such a hideous face?

Suddenly, without a warning, a voice of someone ghastly calling,
Calling for me from my living-room floor

I hear a mournful creaking, a more evil reeking,
What in my good name is it seeking?
Still walking up my staircase?

Alas, it has ceased walking,
Whatever it is seeking

Whatever it is stalking
Has arrived outside my chamber door.

Begins a tremendous pounding, resounding,
through my chamber door,
Covering my ears, wishing not to hear,
this eerie pounding,
My heart responds with fear.

A voice begins speaking,
As it is I it is seeking,
—Seeking from behind my chamber door.

"The face upon your window sill,
Why does it stare, remain so still?
It is the Guider you see, and he has brought
You to me!"

"His job is done, for — I
have come, he is the seeker, as for I,
I am the Grim Reaper!"

"Therefore, rise from thy bed, as thou are truly dead; Never am I solemn, nor do I rejoice, your day has come
as man, you haven't a choice"

I begin uncontrollable weeping,
Surely I am sleeping, for this cannot be
Death outside my chamber door.

I rose from my bed shaking,
Just what is this that's waiting?
Waiting outside my chamber door?

Slowly, my mind careening,
I open my chamber door,
Now believing, as I am seeing,
Face-to-face with death, as the Reaper

Its open mouth—Screaming!

My feet froze in the very spot
As the Reaper's face begins to rot
Emergence of worms and maggots
fall upon me
'Tis not a dream, as death has truly come for me.

I, nauseous and full of anguish, turn in time to see
The spirit known as the Guider vanish

Turning toward the door,
The Reaper reaches out for my embrace
Nothing more is said
As there is nothing more

'Tis that and nothing more?