Pussyfooting along in the darkness,

To a mulish northerly breeze.

Trees swayed empathetically,

Cased in spray from the sea.

I could see two people by the hulking oak door.

Slowly entering, checking around,

Safe the surroundings before sealing the door.

Like a spring I broke wanting action in this hour.

Satisfied by silence,

Strength of the wind sapped my horsepower.

A sly glance I took my chance,

Passing slowly into the house.

Heartbeat simultaneously thunder and smoke,

I could hear voices, tread now cloaked.

One had cheeks like fluffy clouds,

Trembling as if a storm was brewing.

The other face was lined with stress,

Horrors of crime at a guess.

The wall mirror reflected,

As they’re nimble hands inspected,

Many treasures bought long ago.

An inferno I moved,

Faces of astonishment proved,

They had not seen me until now.

A candlestick hit me hard in the head,

Under normal circumstances,

I would have surely been dead,

I felt no pain.

Another blow smashed into thy arm,

All the while my features were calm.

Shocked and scared the two dropped to their knees,

Trauma lined faces started to plead.

But was this real or conscience calling?

Thoughts floundered in time.

Fumbling more with their minds,

I erased the sores of sin,

Slowly my presence started to dim.

The two men vacated full of sorrow,

As thy specter thins and dies.

Conscience calling from beyond,

Could be back tomorrow.