Demon Dreams are Dreadful

She covers her eyes,and shadows away.

She's evil by night, then gentle by day.

 

She lays in the grave yard,never spoken a word.

She's silent to the grave. Nothing's ever been heard.

 

She lives on the streets, yet said to live in the dark,

in the old grave yard down by the park.

 

She lays by that same grave stone, even as we speak.

Noises squeal from the grave yard,light shines through the peek.

 

I sit by my window, looking down at her at night.

While demons dance around her, I hold my cross tight.

 

She was always such a shy person.She never looked at me before.

Then one night she looked at me while standing at the grave yard door.

 

Her eyes were red.Her soul was black.

But I still go to that window, and she always goes back.