From a long adventure bearing Bottled up my youth and yearning in my home alone and fearing Screaming, hissing, writhing, Fitting Crucifix in my hand I do the implore Came a tapping at my window floor

So I looked outside and nothing more

 In a  bed in a  room alight Demons hissing, flitting then alight Turn up the juice for  more light Monsters from the darkness come alive and, in my weakness, I might die Comes a rapping at my window floor And

I know for sure there is nothing there.

 It is like a peculiar tapping, not a coarse and raucous rapping not a loud and boisterous crashing A little pecking, clicking thrashing directed at the window floor I dare not look outside for gravest fear

I am sure there is nothing there.

 Lying in the hospital bed insane Roommate dearest also a bane Booming air duct sounds along with pain Darkness madness freedom maimed Others here they are the same Comes a tapping at my window floor

So I scream out loud and nothing more.

 In this hotel, they shock and twist and drug and startle and slap and rip They come back shadows through the big oak door Grinning devils bare and bored, and in the night returns the rapping A little trite peculiar winking tapping Tapping at my window floor

So I start to pray and nothing more.

 Back at home in just a wink Once a week I see a shrink Asking what I see and hear What I think and what I fear and my future goes amidst the tears and in the blackness comes that tapping the familiar simple shortened clapping A click-clacking at my window floor

And I am sure outside there is nothing there.

 Even in the morning early While I awaken slow and surely Before the sun rises so sweet and cheery.  The sound appears that I abhor I hear a tapping at the front door A little trifled intentioned clacking. A peculiar light and constant tapping Tapping again at my front door

I am afraid to look and nothing more.

 Reading in the night so deep No sounds, no light no insects creep No mice to remind of loss of sleep Then returns the peculiar click and ticking Alight and brusque and sickening pecking A tap tap tapping at my window floor Gone and back and rotten fear

I am scared to death and nothing more.

 And this before the sounds and words Are peculiar things that I have heard in the blossom of my youth Came a loving brush with death and to this day sometimes I hear a tick and tapping Always a light and affectionate clacking A click clack clacking at my new front door and now my soul is not so bare

So I look away because nothing’s there