The house lit with starlight
I woke alone,
and in my waking mind
I could not recognize my home.
Nothing seemed, the way it was,
a dream?
A fantasy,
there was nothing I could recognize
to remind me I was me.

I stepped out of my bed like lead,
the floor was cold and bear,
the mirror held my image, just as long as I would stare,
but when I turned to go,
the mirror seemed to know,
the mirror let my image fall,
as I stepped into the hall,
I turned my back and in its lack the mirror held the image of the crack
along the wall.

I lit a match stick with a flick,
and struck a flame to light the wick,
the globe glowed bright and lit the hall
and cast long shadows on the wall.

The hallway seemed to know my name,
it murmured softly,
vaguely tame,
I crept in silence hoping not,
to wake a spector and get caught.

I made my way and reached the stair,
I stood some time and listened there,
I made my mind to not go down,
convinced myself to turn around,
I turned, then stopped,
I couldn't breathe,
my legs would not allow my leave,
this sight i just could not believe,
my sanity i must retrieve.
Infront of me stood me,
It's me,
this cannot be
I don't believe this thing I see.

I bolted up in my own bed,
in my own room,
I had not tread,
down hallways in a strange old place,
I had not stood up face to face, with me,
and looked me in the eye, and heard from me, tonight I'd die.
I dreampt the whole night,
just a dream,
thank God it wasn't what it seemed.