The clock is stuck at twelve o'clock,

Grandpa’s shade is fleeting...

The cat and dog are sleeping...

The moon shines on her silvery lake,

The phantom are unweeting.

Outside the rain is thin and cold,

A frightened child is weeping.

Gobeen-men with their tick-tock-tack,

Are slithering and creeping.

So, let your brain run riot,

And do not stop,

For all that is. Is not.

In these nightmare stakes

Tremors are felt whilst shrieking,

Icicles spread their tentacles

Into your soul’s safekeeping.