Walking, strolling, moving,

He stalks in the night,

Not a scream to be heard

Nor a sound to fright.

One foot in front of the other,

Night after night.

Sleeting, snowing, pouring,

He treks through the streets,

Droplets dance in the sky,

Surrounding his umbrella they spurred.

Yet they never touch him,

Night after night.

Weeping, sobbing, begging,

He carries the dead in his arms,

Tears seep through his coat,

Bouncing off his skin,

He remains eerily dry,

Night after night.