Fingers slash across my pane
Streaking blood across the glass
Shrieking schoolboys left in pain
Driven from their corpse-like class
I see my gaunt and shadowed face
Reflected in the window pane
Haunting me with morbid grace
Grasping at my marble cane
As my nose begins to bleed
The floorboards warp beneath me
Calloused claws crawl on my feet
And wrap around my knee
That which lays in fallow fields
The tawny work of peasants
Seeks revenge for silence sealed
Beneath the crows and pheasants
And as the banshee wails in fright
I see my face within the light.
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