The Thing

Stuck still, were I
the moment I thought I just might die

The Thing stood 'fore my
bed. Reflective as a cat's were It's eye

I blew 't out, the candle ligh'
Then there 'twas, Oh, I thought my end was nigh

Just 'is arms was long as a rye
Could just barely see 'em in the dark of nigh'

The Thing were so quiet, thought I mights as well cry

In a single second, I
Thoughts of all the times I lie

And as I thoughts for that second or five,
The Thing, it's voice aring,
Spoke a single question, "Why?"

Why did I thinks I could lie,
And gets away with it, as cleared of sin, as a summers sky!

This 'twas surely what it meant by.

Why did I thinks I could die,

With ease and comfort in the arms of my wife,

As I thoughts of the ways this instance could go more awry,
The Thing slipped out my room, with not but a sigh

I couldn't look It in the eye.