And again this night he invades her dreams,
Nearly a week now and she knows not what it means.
A new town a new house, a new life, a life on her own,
But she would get used to it soon it would feel like home.

She feared sleep, she feared him she knew not why,
Only she did fear perhaps it was his hypnotic eyes.
The deepest brown but filled with such torment,
She could see it, she could feel the pain emit.

Hair the color of a ravens wings hanging loosely amid his back,
A silver sword held tight poised for defending attack.
He was tall perhaps six foot three a little less maybe a little more,
Eyes searching always stopping as they reached the door.

Never once were words spoken between the two
It was as if he didn’t know she was there or what to do.
He could not be real only a phantom from her mind,
Conjured by her loneliness she thought had been left behind.

She tossed and turned blankets twisted sheet hanging loose,
Unnoticed by him for still only his eyes moved.
Hiding in the farthest regions of her mind she peeked through,
Sweat glistened upon her body as she searched for clues.

What if it was help he needed? But what help was she?
Perhaps the attic held secrets; maybe it could provide the key.
She gritted her teeth and shut her eyes tighter against his pain,
Sharpened steel sword streaking through her brain.

A sleeping daze she rose slowly from her wrinkled bed,
Slow steps, no control as she walked the path of the undead.
No wait she was not dead he could not take her again,
But try as she may there was no strength to fight this man.

So her walk continued through the lost pages of time,
Her basement had become a dungeon; of prisoners there was no sign.
But the blood. Long since dried but the stench lingered on,
Echoing in the distance a heart-wrenching groan.

No one was there how could it really be so,
She did not want to walk it again, but his eyes made her go.
Looking she saw him held fast in a small cell.
Open cuts oozed blood a nightmare from hell.