The Creak Outside Jack’s Door

The creak outside his door
Tore Jack from his reading.
“What could be that croaking?”
He set out to explore.

But not yet was he standing,
Back down onto his chair,
His hind made a landing
And instead stood his hair.

“It’s just the wood splitting”
To himself he mumbled.
Slam! The wood floor hitting,
The heavy book tumbled.

Jack’s heart’s heavy thumping
Raced at such a fast pace
Now twice the clock’s ticking,
Placed cold white on his face
Where before there was red
And a chill down his spine
That through his body spread
And his spirit malign.

“That sound was not a thing.
It’s gone and won’t return.
The old wood plank did earn
A right to croak and sing.
There’s nothing to fear.
Naught will appear.
No, Not here.
All is clear.”

But the creek did recur,
Now closer and stronger.
“I can read no longer,
This dread I can’t defer”

“What rests outside the door?
Nay, unrests ‘cross my floor!
I calm my nerves it comes,
I wreck my calm it turns!
It knows my mind I’m sure!
Where brave are rich I’m poor!”

The long arms of his chair
His bony fingers clutched,
He suddenly felt touched
And he Screamed in dispair!

The corner of his room
He pressed himself against,
The icy wall he sensed
Panic his soul consumed.

He felt the wall’s embrace,
Set eyes to scrutiny,
Searched the entire place,
But found no villainy

Shaking from head to toe,
Gripping his chest bloody,
Gone mad in his study,
Good old jack had to know!

“What could have scared me so?”

“If I get up from here,
To the door place an ear,
Put away my concern
And my breathing govern,
I will hear what I fear,
Find it to be not queer
Just musings of the oak
Playing Old Jack a joke.”

But Old Jack would not rise.
He would not leave behind
That corner oh! so kind.
So his plan did revise.

“I’ll stay here
Where it is clear
That damned door
I won’t go for
If I wait
My dread abate
The dawn come
My fear be done”

The night seemed to linger,
The weather was changing.
Jack gnawed on his finger,
His legs were cramping.

The wind was heard to howl
To shriek and blow harder,
The oil lamp was now foul
Burning with less ardor.

The breeze coming under
The door brushed the fickle flame
And with roaring thunder
Did the only light claim.

Immerse in the darkness
Old Jack’s eyes grew to tears,
He was so scared, appears,
His sins he did confess.

The creak now sounded close,
Not outside anymore
But underneath the floor;
Of the corner Jack chose

“This dark air frightens me
So I will close my eyes
And of darkness be free.”
Old Jack thought himself wise.

The dark in his control
Old Jack’s nerves got relief
And surrendered some brief
Peace to his meager soul.

Loud, rough and violent
shoke the door on it’s hinge,
Causing Old Jack to cringe,
And again turned silent.

“These sounds terrify me
So I’ll listen no more,
Of creaks and croaks be free
And not fear anymore.”

Putting his fingers in
His ears Old Jack went deaf,
No lute or violin
could he hear more then clef.

Still he was not at ease,
In his mind he did see,
which made him want to flee,
The door open and him freeze.

All his nightmares rushed in
And surrounded Old Jack,
Ardent to launch attack
at the drop of a pin.

“I can not bear this mind
My fears, it turns to pain
I have gone deaf and blind,
Now choose to be insane.”

His eyes turned white,
He looked affright,
But gone was his mind
And his fate was kind.

There was nothing to fear
In what he could not hear.

There was no cause for concern
In what he could not discern.

Nothing that could bring him torment
Could his empty mind now invent.

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