just waiting to climb into the crib and frighten,
stealing just a bit of the soul.
When babes cry out in the night
it is the demons that sit at the foot of the bed
tickling the toes with talons which someday
well strike into the heart.
Demons that wait behind each smile, each nod
and which whisper sweet words of maddnes and fear.
Demons that can not be conquered, for when vanquished
another climbs from the foul pit of your deseased soul
forever one more yet to feed.
