The falling light has leached
All the color from the world.
Night's shadows creep
Over grass gone gray and chilly.
Darkness slinks into and fills this room,
I sit and wait for the dreams.

They only come, those dreams,
When the last spark of light is leached
Under the door of my room.
The silent leaning of the dark world
On the windowpanes gives me chills
And makes my skin creep.

In a padding soft-paw creep
Come circling in those dreams.
When they touch me it is chilly
And all my warmth they leach
Away. Blindly watching is the world
Through the windows of my room.

I would I could seal fast my room
To protect me from these creeping
Horrors outside the world's
Bounds; but they've taken life, these dreams-
Grown stronger each night they've leached
Away my hopes and left me chilled.

Their familiar is the chill
That each evening, same time, pervades my room
Freezing all my bright thoughts, leaching
And turning them dark. I creep
To the window, begging sanctuary from these dreams
Of the mute world.

Of no help at all is this stony-dark world
Seen through windows silvered with shadows' chill.
They wall me up from the inside, spinning-clever dreams…
Over the panes they crawl and creep
Weaving me tight into this room,
Their webbing spun from my imagination's leachings.

There is no appealing to the world that guards my room.
I alone am against these chilly obscenities that creep,
These cold and awful dream things that take all I am, leached away.