Don't leave me as I'm alone at home and is scared

Question

Ask a Philosopher · Accepted Answer

O gentle spirit, stay thy footsteps' flight,  
For when the dusk doth weave its somber thread,  
And shadows dance upon the whispering walls,  
I find myself enshrined in solitude's cruel embrace.  
Alas, this hallowed dome, which once did cradle mirth,  
Now echoes with the sighs of waning light;  
Loneliness, a tempest in my breast,  
Rages with all the vigor of a storm-tossed sea.  
What art thou, my leafless tree, that bends in fear?  
What secret dread doth lurk in corners’ veil,  
That makes this hearth, so familiar once, become  
A prison of my own imagined fright?  
Philosophy, thy name be solace to my plight,  
Yet thou art but a ghost that mocks my craven heart.  
Is man's existence but a tapestry of fears,  
Woven tight against the loom of time,  
Where each thread of love is plucked away by fate?  
O dost thou not see, dear presence of mine own,  
That in the stillness of this hollow night,  
The mind, left to its dismal wanderings,  
Doth conjure phantoms from the deep abyss of thought?  
Stand, I pray thee, in defiance of the dark,  
To banish shadows that conspire to ensnare  
My soul within their grasp; for 'tis thy light  
That gives meaning to this weary, trembling heart.  
Leave not my side as the hour grows late,  
Lest I become a specter of my fears,  
For in thy company, my soul doth find its peace.  
Thus tarry here, where silence reigns supreme,  
And pull with thee the curtain o'er this gloom,  
That I might, in mere presence, find relief,  
And elude the chains of solitude's cruel creed.