There's a thing at my window, peering through the glass.

Is that thing an intruder or a neighbor?

That thing at my window will come for me.

That thing at my window is alone, afraid, and thirsty,

But this thirst cannot be quenched by a mere drink.

There's a thing at my window and is wanting to come in.

This thing sees that I'm inside.

This thing has a weapon and yearns to use it.

Waiting for the right tie to enter and explore.

Hoping to find triumph to end this madness.

There's a thing at my window and its patience is gone.

The thing has opened the window and is stepping on the floor.

Now this thing is ready to go wild,

Unaware that this thing is me.