A Nauseous Nocturne

Another night deprived of slumber,
Hours passing without number,
My eyes trace 'round the room. I lay
Dripping sweat and now quite certain
That tonight the final curtain
Drops upon my short life's precious play.

From the darkness, by the closet
Comes a noise, much like a faucet
Makes: a madd'ning drip-drip-dripping sound.
It seems some ill-proportioned beast,
Anticipating me deceased,
Is drooling poison puddles on the ground.

A can of Mace, a forty-five,
Is all I'd need to stay alive,
But n...