Night Army

Ain't no rest for the wicked.
Our work is never done.
From death and destruction
to plague and sorrow,
our army is everywhere.
We are on the street,
yes even yours.
We lurk in the shadows
of the woods around your house.
What was that?!
It was just our dead breathing
right in your ear.
Sweat starts to come forth,
covering your face.
There is a whisper
of the wind in the leaves.
You are shaking in your shoes.
We smile at your fear,
feeding off of your
sweet negative energy.
You flee, running for your life.
All the way home you go!
Guess what, we’re there too!
In the dark corners of the house,
We wait for you to rest.
In your closet, we watch you sleep.
In the dark, we come out
and go bump in the night.
You wake and stir
in your soft, warm bed.
We lurk over you,
over your head.
“What will you do?”
we ask you,
“We feed off you.”
You run again,
through the house you go,
right out the front door!
Where we WANT you to go,
for we rule the night.
Black clouds build,
hiding the stars.
Darker than pitch
colder than ice,
Rain pours forth
from our dark clouds,
soaking you, freezing you.
One of us snaps a twig
and your head snaps to him,
but you do not see
for you are blind.
We roll some thunder
like you roll dice.
Finally, you faint.
We solidify ourselves
to feast on your flesh.
Tonight you are there,
but in the morning
you will be gone.