Poem From A Spirit Thing

I sit under the window
A full moon glares at me
Under cloudless skies
I await your return.

You open the door
And I glide my soulless body
Across the open floor
Towards your mortal being.

There's nothing you can do
Or nothing you can say
I will choke your life filled body
And send it underground.

Tonight, the clock strikes twelve
I will await by that window
And make sure your death
Is one that will surly work.