He prowls beneath the streets at night,

The creature that all life despises.

Mothers, hold your children tight-

Now is the hour when he rises.

~~~~~

He roameth through the sewer, searching

For some flesh on which to feed.

Oh, flee ye from his savage lurching

gait- his lot is death and greed.

~~~~~

What creature this, so black and twisted?

What creature from the depths of hell?

How can this horror have existed?

Well, gather close, for I shall tell.

~~~~~

T'was on a chilly winter's morn

While many children laughed and played.

T'was on that day that he was born-

No, never born. This thing was made.

~~~~~

T'was children did his body mould.

T'was children who attached his head.

Children who, on growing cold

Did leave their creature- leave for dead.

~~~~~

There must have been some magic in

That old silk hat they found,

For once the kids were all tucked in...

He began to move around.

~~~~~

His twig-like fingers flexed and fumbled.

His movements were unsure and slow.

He took a step- and promptly stumbled

In the unforgiving snow.

~~~~~

He knew he was an aberration-

Abandoned, slighted, left for dead.

To dwell in light was not his station.

He found another place, instead.

~~~~~

So now he takes revenge upon

The ones who did abandon him.

So tarry not, or you'll be gone

To meet a fate both dark and grim.

~~~~~

He prowls beneath the streets at night,

The creature that all life despises.

Mothers, hold your children tight-

Now is the hour when he rises.