Mr. Black

Mr. Black was always watching. He watched us from his mossy home, hidden within a hollow beech. He lurked in mists beyond our reach. He followed when the sun went down, and stepped into our restless dreams, where often in a haunted park, his footsteps echoed in the dark. We knew that he was always there, when sudden noises in the night, staggered from their hiding place, and caused the heart to blindly race. But as the clock records the years, our childish demons fade away. We banish lairs where ghosts abide, and mortal fears are swept aside. We all forget the truth we knew, in superstitions of our youth, till fate is finally at hand, the plot that shadows always planned. Though we may live three score and ten, still Mr. Black comes back again. He'll find you on some moonless night. He follows you just out of sight.