Blood and fangs,
Screams and bangs.
Howls and Barks.
with swinging swings
pushed by phantoms.
with angry glares.
Especially when in gangs of millions,
zillion reasons to give me scares.
They say they have royal rights
to give me a fright.
They flit in and haunt my mind
as though I'm their only one, their precious find.
Now that the moon is high,
it's the Witching Hour and dim are all the lights.
They'll sneak in, not at all shy
and give me a chill in the night...