Once she walked clothed by night,

"A pleasanter time," whispers the fright,

"Fear, worry and death, all in my grasp,

Just dying to hear you gag and gasp –

For air as I strangle you, as you fade away."

The fright said as he left for another day.

Listless and pure she stumbles along,

Wondering why and where this came from.

The fright stands by held back by blue –

Of the sky; so constant, so true.

She stands as proud as a valiant victor,

No lies or facades live in her picture.

The evening rolls in,

Let the taunting begin,

"Too fat; be thin,

Cut your skin,

I will grin,

For your life is a sin."

"'Tis better now," the fright sniggers to her,

"It's true!" She insists as he begins to purr –

Stroking her hair horridly lovingly,

Treating her as a pet,

"No, hear now, shush don't cry,"

Cut, Cut, no need to fret.

The morning brings sleeves,

And her heart grieves,

For losing the awful battle front,

To the prowling nightmare on the hunt.

She fights with fists against the fright,

The elusive creature of the night.