The Ghost in the Door

~*~

There he is, look at him!
You cannot see him…
But walk through that door,
think about how you feel.
Do you feel him?
He is there.
Every night when I sleep,
I can feel him
watching me,
waiting for my guard to fall.
But I have my protector,
is that enough?
Feel his hate, his anger,
it hurts me to think about it.
Why did he stay?
Death should be a release,
yet he remains,
watching me, hating me.
When I look at the door long enough,
sometimes I can see him,
watching me with an
evil glare,
wanting to kill me.
But he cannot, being ethereal,
and I am safer,
as long as I remain in my dreams.
He knows who I really am,
I think,
and he knows how I lie;
maybe that is why he hates me.
Because when I go up the stairs,
I can feel him behind me,
wanting me to fall
through the door,
into his world.
It never happened.

~*~