• A voice whispers
    In a low scary tone.
    You hear breathing,
    and your home all alone.

    A chill goes through your spine,
    As you turn around.
    Because from nowhere
    there is a sound.

    The lights flicker off,
    A harsh wind comes in.
    You hear moaning from behind.
    And you know the "thing" will win.

    The "thing" creeps closer,
    it is coming to devour you.
    You'd better run,
    For its friends are not few.

    You feel spellbound,
    It's the enchanted foreignor.
    Your heart beats faster
    as "it" rounds the corner.....