ﻯtealer of ﻯleepy ﻯouls

"Welcome to my nightmare. I think
you're going to like it. There'll be
some more when you come down."

A dark void of space hangs heavy above
Clasping light away from all life below
Chilly breath of air, black in the night
Dusk shades fields, time for rest
Shut the windows, lock the doors
Head hits the pillow, eyes retire

As we sleep, It comes out to play...

It thrives under the veil of night
Having long awaited for it's prey
Laying festered in daylight hours
Midnight is the time for It's feed
Nourishment gained from spirits
Feasting on flesh, sucking souls

It's awaited witching hour has begun...

It's cadaverous claws reach for catching
It's body is made of shadowing tendrils,
moving as air, impossible to capture
It's eyes are vast, deep, hallow holes
It harbors fangs, sharper than razors
It inhales your presence, seeking you

It has it's catching, this is how you end...

It favors the throat, so delicate and fragile
Grasping the neck, It restricts the airways
It's sickly claws puncture the dainty skin
As life leaves your chest, It breathes you in
It devours every drop of your astral energy
Your spirit seeps into It, absorbing your soul

It retires for the night, but It is never truly gone...