Silent as mist, I roam,
my world is the still depths of blackest night.
In search, yes, endless search,
seeking the child of gray to black heart.
Though forewarned, bad children are abundant,
those pure of heart to be spurned in nights passage.
I find the child of innocent heart, distasteful,
not of interest nor matter to my need.
My quest is the rich bitter sweet taste
of the child in gray to black heart.
The darker tint is stronger to call,
those passed over this night, perhaps tomorrow’s prey.
Floating upon the silent night breeze,
hidden by shadow in moonless night, I travel.
Barriers none to stop my unquenchable thirst,
as black smoke through door or window I enter.
Without detection, unseen, unstoppable,
silently I creep to bedside of my chosen.
In a ghostly embrace the unruly child
is carried into the night,
to my place of dark secrets, not be seen again.
Heed my warning, children of wicked ways.
I will find you in my time,
you cannot hide nor fool me.
Your fate lies in your chosen play,
be good of spirit, pure of heart.
Lest I steal you away, as you sleep in the night,
for I am the Boogeyman.
Robert Gene Stoner Jr
Copyright © Robert Stoner Jr | Year Posted 2016
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