No One

        The walls hum and thrum with an oppressive heat

         And I can hear them calling me

        The doers of yesterday as they scream and bleat

     What do I do - But turn and see

Nothing exists, but Me and my zeal

  No one real - nor a Ghost to zap

          Yet shiver and tremble the scatter rugs

        And I hear them a fresh

       The need to flee does snow me under

      And slowly rise the carpets to embrace.