Kitties, puppies, bunnies is my mantra
When the big bad scaries infuse my dreams
With lavender and orange dahlias,
Twisting sweetness to malign travesty.
Morose is the hand that guides freakish tour,
Pointing the way toward spectral vastness,
And beings heard but unseen behind doors...
The ghoulish threat of mayhem and madness.
Engulf'd now in this panick'd mind's prison,
To become this corner'd lonely buffoon.
How came I to bend thought to these visions?
Just that one glance did I take at gray moon.
How came I to this persistent prowling?
Can no one cure me of this mad howling?