The ghosts, they came

Tonight to haunt him,

Displaying their slideshow

Of mummified memories,

With grins of grisly humor

Worn by the violently dead.

“You’ve neglected us,

Your mom and dad.

No longer you live the night of terror.

Oh, unworthy to be called

Our firstborn son,

Sing a song of sixpence,

Breathe your last and die.”

The dreams grew worse,

No salve had he,

Until she spoke to him.

She kissed the innocent’s

Sweating, warm brow

And combatted most eagerly

Those ancient ghosts.

Her angelic powers

Held sway o’er his heart

And from the jaws of the dead

She saved him for good.

Sing a song of twopence,

Just trust her and he’ll fly.