The bodies scurry away,
They think it's a game they're about to play,
They find a hole in which to hide,
Quietly, the innocent abide.
The demon-thief will take from them,
The mother's dreams--what might have been,
Their stifled giggles would not emit,
If their stalker's face were lit.
But have a final laugh littleone.
Ready or not, here i come.