Night falls.
Her breath is hot,
her eyes are searching.
For only one thing. . .
Blood.
She walks by your door.
You hear her grunts
and look out the window.
You don't know who she is.
Or where she came from.
You don't know that tomorrow,
you could be dead.
Courtesy of her.
You do not know,
that tomorrow,
a person will be found on the street.
His blood drained.
You do not know a scream
will dribble down the air,
forcing you awake.
A mistake,
just letting her walk by.
But what would you do
if you knew she was out to kill,
would you think
'it's none of my business'
or
'someone else will deal with it'
but no one does.
and the innocent will die. . .
Night falls.
And she's coming. . .