The Thing That Smiles at Night

Beneath the moon’s unholy light,

It slithers forth to steal the night.

A grin too wide, its teeth too white,

It waits for you—just out of sight.

—

Its fingers scrape the windowpane,

A whisper leaks inside your brain.

You close your eyes, yet still it sees,

Its breath entwined within the breeze.

—

Your mother swore it wasn’t real,

Yet now you hear it softly kneel.

It hums a song you’ve never known,

A lullaby of blood and bone.

—

The closet door, it stands ajar,

Two hollow eyes like dying stars.

It grins—oh God, it grins so wide,

It steps within… You step inside.

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Author’s Note

Beneath the veil of night, where shadows stretch and silence lingers, the mind plays its cruelest tricks. Or perhaps, it merely unveils what has always lurked beyond the veil of perception. This piece is an ode to the creeping dread that slinks into the corners of childhood memories—the unseen thing beneath the bed, the whisper in the dark, the presence that lingers just out of reach.

Fear, after all, is a door left ajar.

And something is always waiting on the other side.