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