Lonely footsteps in the night.

Always hidden at daylight.

Haunting the cold, rainy, midnight streets.

Quicker and quicker my heart beats.

 

Pitter patter, pitter patter, goes the rain hitting the ground.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, goes the feet stepping steady and loud.

Could this be the fictional, haunting character, Mr Hyde?

Before I know it, a little girl in the streets will have cried.

 

Imagining someone will break into my house.

Wishing I could be little, small and hide like a mouse.

Hoping someone won’t come along and murder us all.

You wake up with a jolt, having a dream that on the side of a cliff you fall.