The Witching Hour

 

 

It starts like any other day,

but as the darkness looms,

fearsome beings creep out to play

from crypts and graves and tombs.

 

On Halloween a bugle call

summons a gruesome horde;

A reveille that casts a pall,

and strikes an eerie chord.

 

Each goblin, zombie, ghoul and ghost,

all who inspire fear -

phantoms and spirits take up their posts;

the witching hour is near

 

I was alone one Hallows’ Eve,

boldness in my stride;

I wore my courage on my sleeve;

careless in my pride

 

Oh, horror, it was a chilling sight;

I thought my mind would fail,

it turned my hair a gleaming white

and made my skin go pale.

 

I will not speak of what I saw,

or tell of evil spawn -

awake, abroad on Hallows’ Eve

until the crack of dawn.

 

My warning to all both far and near:

all revelers be wary;

creatures that thrive on dread and fear

are why Halloween is scary.

 

© Ellie Maziekien