Tip tap, tip tap, death is at your door.

The cool wooden panel beneath ones feet,
moving hurriedly beneath heavens star-filled keep.

Moon and the thousands of dots bring down light,
shining clear through the windows like beams that twinkle and fight.

The darkness of ones own house leaves ones own mind worried,
the steps towards the sink increasingly hurried.

As one raises the glass, sipping it's contents.
The glass of the window shines and reflects!

Eyes opened wide, lips parted as well,
for a scream that could pierce into the depths of hell.

No sound comes now, it is by far to late.
The hands that now tie you also squeeze-hold your neck.

A faint muffled whimper, beyond the clogging piece of cloth.
The sensation of being dragged, placed down to watch a single moth.

Then the predator ends it's ritual, it's sacrifice prepared.
It turns to face it's prey, that's you, that it has managed to ensnare.

The slow, tender movements, such delicate care..
..The burning sensation as the knife your skin tear..

Panicked and frantic, you twist and you squirm.
Tightened restraints makes your skin feel like it burn.

Nothing to do, but shriek muffedly and see..
How the madman before you brings out a piece of ye.

Dripping, still raw, there's a part of your being.
Stunned, still in pain, you can't bealive what your seeing.

Vision is blurry, part from pain, mostly from tears.
The glee-filled laughter that seems to go on for years..

The process continues, you soon lie in your own gore.
And as things finally finish, you are hidden away beneath the floor.

And so the pain is over, you finally think your freed..
..Only to realise, your still here even as you stop to bleed.

Hell nor paradise, all you hope, belif and thought.
Instead your stuck in soil with worms, just as your thoughts, you are soon naught.