Ghost Bus

Underneath a tattered lamppost

Amid restless, dream filled sleep

The ghost bus coasts to a quiet stop

Without making a single squeak

It has found your home's address

Knowing the number and street

What disembarks as it seeks you

Is unhampered by being discreet

Your soul is a target of darkness

A fact that will remain unknown

Until it attacks without warning

Once you yield no mercy is shone

It's not alive as people define life

Existing in a murky underworld

Betwixt the shadows of the night

With jagged sharp talons curled

Consuming the essence of living

Is how it procreates its own kind

Leaving you as a walking zombie

Losing more than just your mind

Pray you wake before it attacks

Or you will become just the same

Searching streets on a ghost bus

Seeking your next victim's name