To all the ghouls I've loved before
(A dreadful verse)
By Alisa Craddock
web posted October 30, 2006
When I'm all alone and the darkness seems so deep,
The walls so high, the room so narrow,
And creaky noises keep me from my sleep,
And taunt me with visions of Satan and Mia Farrow;
When the night's so black I can't see my hand before me
…or anyone else's, but I dare not flee,
How I long for the company of someone who's nice,
Who's warm and kind…like Vincent Price.
When something comes a rapping at my chamber door
…and there's nothing there…nothing anywhere
but the sound of something dragging ‘cross the floor,
some lifeless thing that's dragging ‘cross the floor;
When I'm nodding nearly napping by my window
And I see red eyes and dripping fangs, oh no!
How I pray for a savior to deliver me
And carry me home…like Christopher Lee.
When the moon is full and the wolfs bane is in bloom,
And the children of the night make music from far off,
And I feel this overwhelming sense of doom,
And I cry for Mummy, but they send me Boris Karloff;
When the faucets in the bathroom all are gushing
…and it's blood! Oh God, Mother, BLOOD! but I can't scream,
And I feel inclined to send for Peter Cushing,
Though I'm sure that things cannot be what they seem,
And I KNOW that this has got to be a DREAM!
How I yearn for a prince to come and hold me closely,
And put my fears to rest…like Bela Lugosi.
Alisa Craddock is free-lance columnist and activist in the culture war, a convert to Catholicism, and describes herself as a Christian Libertarian. In addition to Enter Stage Right, her columns have been published on Alain's Newsletter and Out2 News. She may be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org.
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