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Some say they appear when the wings of the moon are wide spread,
Others claim appearance occur every dark Thursday.

They say their faces are frightening, bright within their
White-overall fabric which they stroll the living’s lands with.

Some say only the mightily perceive their presence,
But the night I awoke to a cry summoned difference.

It’s ferocious hands called the winds to untangle the door lock,
My glistering lantern inhaled the wind till autolysis.

under the sheets

Tremble, cold, weakness erupted from my cores,
As I beheld a figure staring blankly from the door; at me.

It’s feet; concealed behind it’s garments moved nearer.
Cry; frozen, scream; congealed, Voice; Unthawed, (none would come).

In a split second, lantern came on, the figure vanished.
Silence reigned, but heart wondered, I said,

“Was that for real, or lucidity played?”

But to be honest, I’ll be candid, neither is right.

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