Three O'Clock Glass

** Inspired by my habit of going out for some water during the unholy hours. Plus an overactive imagination. ** - Three O'clock Glass - On more than once a night past twelve I've burnt the oil on art and shelve Well wide awake as long it took And not a care for timely spook. But on one very quiet night A little trip did give a fright When fancied I to stop at first To get a drink to quench my thirst. Across the living room I went And past the dining room, silent I'm careful not to make a peep Lest I wake the house from sleep. But as I padded back, refreshed I never thought, much less had guessed That I was not alone at all There's something standing at the hall. I froze a little way from it My reasons drained along with wit It didn't move, it didn't speak But I sure felt my legs go weak. It was half-shadow, half opaque But I was sure it wasn't fake Its face sunk deep with hallowed eyes Colorless in all its guise. And then I found the strength to run I've had enough; Oh, I'm so done! Last I saw through bedroom door Was of it gliding 'cross the floor. I kept the locks tightly in place I never want to see its face But I could feel it's standing there Without a plan to go elsewhere. It wasn't there come morning bright I was relieved to see the light I welcomed it as I stepped out But last night's horror stayed, no doubt. Nights more had passed, still I could feel That what I've seen was all too real. Ever since, I spared no bother To go out for a glass of water. I shit you not, oh woe is me The thing is not letting me be I couldn't rest, now that I know The bastard's now at the window. ((Sweet dreams tonight, guys. Hahaha.))