Outside the Window

*Whispering voice* "Hello, little child, all tucked into your bed...."  
"Who was that?" You wondered,  
The voice whispered tranquilly, "If you leave not, this will be your deathbed...."  

From the hall beyond your door, an aura, broken and sinister,  
"What is that I hear? Is that not the song they played at your mother's funeral?"  
"And who is that toddling down the hall? The bear given to you by your dead grandfather?"  
 
"Bark! Bark!" Is that? ...No, it can't be, he died last winter...." The voice whispered, crestfallen,  
Too much for your little two year old heart,  
"Come with me, come out to the garden...."  
 
Searching for the voice in the night,  
You begin to weep, as you sit upright, too much a fright.  
 
"Come to me..." The voice whispers warmly,  
You feel you can trust this voice.  
"Come outside, and I will set you free!"  
 
You turn to the swinging shutters,  
You go to the window, looking,  
Nothing but moonlit snow on the ground and bushes.  
 
Then you see her, a young woman, figure, dress and hair white, and smile wide,  
Floating just outside your window.  
You feel you can trust her to comfort your fright.  
 
You climb out the window into her arms outstretched to thee,
And from a scream, your father awakes to under your window see, his only child's dead body.