A spectre in the night
His menacing grin projected over the front lawn
He never fluctuates, though he is only kept steady by the air that we breathe

You are nothing
You are nothing of substance
But why keep your sinister vigil beneath my window?

Do you only smell carrots?

And in the night he climbs up to my window
Shaking my hand, he congratualtes me and says:
"You're next."

I hope you deflate.