The hour is late and upon the wall
I see words written in some
Other worldly scrawl
And a part of me knows
I should probably be afraid
Yet the only fear I have
Is being swayed
To the side of the darkened gloom
That seems to penetrate
Every corner of my room
And though I know
The morning will bring the light
It doesn't help me
While I'm here
In this blackened night--
Peering at the writing on the wall
Which is etched
In some other worldly scrawl
And finally I am able to decipher
And clearly read what is written there:

"Those who sleep here
must become aware
that when the night grows dim
and light shines through--
there will be death and horror
lying in wait for you."