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I await in the corners of night and strike without compassion.
I lurk within your shadows bound by no other passion.
My glee is your misery, my smile your bane.
I am the ghost that lies underneath your windowpane.

Forever tormented by the lights from above,
and tormented from doing what I love.
My horrid anger knows no bound,
I enter your mind without a sound

Unseen by all but unless you're dead,
My blade encloses you all with dread.
I have many names, in many language
but the one I enjoy bears me safe passage

Death I am called, grim I have been,
but watching you writhe makes me grin.
I await you at the threshold of doom,
and carry you off to sadness and gloom.