I know these things

These horrible things

These things that I’ve heard

These whispers of words

The deeds that were done

The web that was spun

No where to hide

And no where to run

Speak of these now

And your world comes undone

These things

As it seems

From the pit

Of your twisted

Dark dreams

But I

You see

Hear their silent screams

They cry

They Plea

They long to be free

Don’t worry my dear

They won’t be by me