The mist skimmed over the dark lake,
The darkness, the loneliness, it was all difficult to take.
As I looked fearfully into the mist,
The fright! Of seeing a clenching fist.
A figure floated through the air,
I could stay there - but I did not dare.
The bony, crooked finger was beckoning me,
The fear in me, it was plain to see.
I tried to run as fast as I could,
Tried to hide in the thick of the wood.
No matter where I tried to hide.
That terrorizing figure was also there, by my side.
The hooded cape, and wooden staff,
The figure with the frightening laugh.
In the anguish of trying to run, I slipped and fell,
I found myself staring into the jaws of hell.
I begged, I cried, I pleaded with all my might,
But nothing could make it look all right.
Mend your ways, or that’s your fate,
I`m here to tell you, its not too late.
I could see all the patrons of the land of hell,
Their tortured faces, the pungent smell.
The painful cries, the pitiful sound,
The burning chains whirling them round and round.
Infestation of their skins,
The racket, oh God! what a din.
I vowed there and then it would never be me,
If I got back it would be different, just u wait and see.
All of a sudden the mist did lift,
Another chance, an awesome gift.
I found myself back by the lake,
Only question is was I ever awake.