Benny, I have made mistakes. A lot of them apparently. They all come around eventually, creeping their way up my spine. The more I look, more monstrous the figures get. Some days it will be a bright shine, and out of the blue moon, a hood appears on the porch. Sys he wants my fears. Creek his rags of cobwebs. His walk is limp, wanting some help. Hands reach out like a beggar on a rainy day, progressing towards the door. He stops in front of the door, staring into the abyss. Nothing he wants, nothing he craves. Admitting to his sins, he begins scraping the wood. Nails, screech past wounding the flesh. The thing scrapes till there's no flesh left. Bones peek out like a child behind his mother. A tear greets the floor, melting the earth beneath. The feet vanish like the wind. "You've got some work to do", he says in his coarse voice before the earth eats him up. I watch this from the mesh like a wonder. When will the curtains fall on this one? When will the sun set on this front?