The Cabinet of the Midnight Phantom by Matt Wall
It happened again last night,
The voice that fills me with fright,
Called out my name at midnight,
With all my soul, I tried to fight.
The voice came from the cabinet from across the room,
Knowing this filled me with doom,
The voice, it will get louder soon,
Instead of twelve midnight, I wish it twelve noon!
The rats in the walls have started to run,
The bats outside have started their fun,
My heart pounds loud, like the beat of a drum,
This voice, this phantom, wants me to come.
Anxiety fills me as I sit in this chair,
Watching this cabinet that is stealing my air,
My heart now is filled with despair,
I cannot, I will not, break my stare.
Will this phantom silence his tongue?
Or will he wait until his deeds are done?
To rise from this chair means to run,
Run from the fiend this evil one.
I cannot go, he calls me near,
I arise, yet still in fear,
I approach the cabinet, my mind not clear,
The sound from the cabinet is evil, and queer.
I place my hand upon the latch,
I pull the door open quickly and fast,
I give out a cry and a loud gasp,
And am now in the phantom’s grasp.
I have set him free from his hell,
He jumps at my face and I yell,
What he is doing I cannot tell,
But down my throat the phantom fell.
I can feel him in my veins,
Pulsating quickly through my brain,
Knowing I am no longer sane,
Oddly I don’t feel the need to complain.
Well now it seems the phantom has won,
Now his evil deeds will be done,
This thing now cannot be undone,
This midnight phantom and I are one!