The tapping sound of unknown feet,
Gives me a heavy feeling.

I have the art of knowing,
That they’re not from here.

It gets louder and louder,
Weirder and weirder as it gets near.

The visions of their faces seen on the shadow,
They are the meaning of tomorrow.

A knock of three was heard so clear,
I know, They are here.
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.
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Writer: M.E. Flores
Hour17, Image Prompt17