Darkness has fallen and the doors no longer shake.

Jack O Lanterns have been brought in and witches pulled up by the stake.

Sugar has filled every hollow of child and man.

Excited minds and heartbeats are falling to sleep if they can.

 

But have you wondered what happens next,

In the world minutes after that night of eve?

Did you think this all came about,

Just to practice trickery for treats to deceive?

 

The spirits form from wisps of smoke.

Their cackle calls pulled from a drunkards choke.

Why do they come on this night back to earth?

And are they the kindly or those of no worth?

 

They stagger about through the streets and the paths.

They venture into the quiet to hide their vengeful wrath.

Some wonder why there are those who go missing.

And some wonder just before at the sound of that hissing.

 

The rustle of a leaf, the wind blowing of course.

As shoulders are driven to earth by inhumanly force.

Bodies try to scream as skin is ripped to shreds.

Last thoughts of how they wished they had returned to their beds.

 

Feet pass by the darkened garden spot,

The sniffling wet nose drawn to a certain spot.

The master pulls with force to move them on their way.

Perhaps next time on the next All Hallows Day.

 

 

 

The sound of a distant whimpering and a terrible scream,

And the smoke formed spirit knows, for those two, there will be no next Halloween.

The sound comes to its ears at the approach of another  present for its once per year day of a dream.

 

 

Ronovan

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