Stranger in the Dark

At night under plight of sleepless blight, moonlight washes through the window
As howling wind screams round every bend of trees to appease dancing devils,
Who mark their time by death’s tollhouse chime on every hour while you cower
In bed, where you lay your weary head to rest, flying cares on wings of prayers
To heaven’s door when suddenly you hear footsteps across the floor and more,
You spy the awful face of the Stranger who walks to stalk an unsuspecting soul
In unholy rhythm with the bands of hell, demanding their diabolic allegiance,
Commanding their assistance against any resistance you might make for sake
Of your life now at stake, but you cannot feign courage nor gain the sympathy
Of lighter spirits, or even sprites, to make a defense against the odious offense
Of him who comes to terrorize, and so you realize your only hope is in appeal
To empyrean fortification beyond space and time, where majestic Life abides,
And should you in pain gain some sure help divine against this dark Stranger,
Then you might well resign the balance of your days to the valiance of virtue,
Whereby your very self becomes an eternal expression of gratitude 
In possession of endless grace without reservation or any hesitation…
But see eyes that still peer thru the dark so stark? the Stranger yet remains

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