nitemare0282

across the moon lite moor, came a figured bathed in shadow.
silently he strode like a wind on a summers morn
composed of childish thoughts and fears.
and like it appeared, the figure faded with the dawn

we looked at each other , gazes white, for answers to the ruse
but none could explain the image, save one theory yet to prove
.the figure was imagination, horror and illusion,
the answer was in our hearts all this time, .....
fear is just our dillusion