Tag Archives: Halloween

Werewolf’s Lament

Through lonely streets and alleys dank, dewy cold and sorely rank I slink away from revel’s call, pressed in fear against the wall of red bricked points that lead the way to secret blinds where I can stay safely hid from what I fear will call tonight within the drear of hallows eve, of tricks and treats, of screams and cries in haunted streets, beneath the swollen moon.

As dusk betrays the light of day, I lock the door behind me, pray that ne’er my curse escape beyond this cell to find what I’ve become, where haunted by October moon I’d find I’d grown to beastly swoon submerged in gore and rancor filled, not knowing of the blood there spilled! I writhe in horror waiting, until the full moon’s tide is trading, all coming much too soon.

Hidden in the hedgerow’s thick I smell the blood, my heart is sick, for o’er my torn and ragged clothes is death’s black art from murdered throws, of those who met my poisoned soul, ripped to bits of meat and bone, who in their death and ashen white, were terrified to run or fight, and now are left in doom’s malaise, while I, the wolf, retreat quite dazed, beneath the setting moon!

Now as I slink from death’s parlay, toward secret rooms and hideaways, I hear the town in echoed call, screaming, crying, searching all, while I decry the wrong I’ve done, my body shrinks in flesh and bone, claws and fangs withdraw to mine! Remorse and shredded clothes a sign that I am death and so in cursed to bare each victim to its hearse, and splatter red October’s moon!

In horror’s grip I weep the last for all of those I’ve killed and passed beyond the shores of Styx and death! With sadness and remorse I’m left, to pray for justice, pray to die, hope to end this living lie, but still each day continues on! Wading through each season’s song! Fearing only ashen moons that bath the nights in lovers’ swoons, that tempts the wolf within me out! To kill in terror! Stalk about, until the night is through! Hoping that I won’t find you!

Happy Halloween!!!!

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Filed under Halloween, Poetry

The Haunted House Upon the Hill

Left upon the hill in ruin, aged beyond its years in count,
stands a house where terror reins and nightly screams of horror mount.
Ne’er a soul has lived there since long before the paint has peeled,
yet ghostly apparitions drift in shadows and throughout the field!
Its windows blank and broken softly glow at midnight’s call,
while screeching cries of mourning echo through its vacant halls!
The organ in the parlor stands as relic to its richer past,
yet late upon a full moon night maniacal chords come loud and fast!
Behind the dreadful music, between the ghosts at window’s light,
beneath the mournful screams of grief an evil laughter fills the night!

Oh how it sets my heart to shudder! Oh how my fears recoil my skin!
Oh how my bones in terror flutter and chase me back to home again!

Ne’er a living a soul has witnessed, for those who’ve gone have not returned,
for once within its halls and doorways the living flesh is taken, burned!
Yet some have claimed a glimpse in daylight, when quiet the house seems to resplend
a calmer tone of living, a relic from an ancient wind.
They claim the claims of rotten horror, when through the vacant windows seen
the blood upon the organ keys that softly growl, low and lean.
They claim a cackled cat sits by the marble stairway’s rotting rail,
they claim its eyes glow red with fire while guttural moans transcend to wails.
They claim above the mantle sits a portrait of a frightful man,
whose eyes are wild and vivid, whose sneering grin states, “Off my land!”

For those who’ve made such claims, they say, have placed the miles twixt them and here,
for not a living local soul will claim they’ve seen much more than fear.

High upon the hill of fright stands a grand and ghoulish sight,
where horror bends the midnight’s air and feeds a terror to those who stare.
A haunted house of huge proportion, a portal to an evil space,
a house whose iron fence gives notion that nothing should we dare displace.

So in the village all abide to steer away, to steer aside and never bring a question,
never try to reason why, but grant the hellish mound our fears and to our curious minds, deny!

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Filed under Halloween, Poetry

All Hallows Eve

All_Hallows_Eve

Sit still beneath the full moon’s stare
in heart of woods where few souls dare
to pause in quiet, rest and listen,
to hear the babbling brook that glistens
eerily on all hallows night,
by falling shadows and dancing light,
for sighs that come in moans and stirs
twixt shadowed breeze and moonlight’s blur.

Sit still beside the brook and path
and into depths of lost souls hath
ye found the opened door to death,
left ajar by those who’ve left
to join a chorus of frightful moans.
On hallows eve they stir and roam
to free the burden of their demise,
expose their deathly secrets, rise
from grave and headstone broken
to seek these woods and brook’s words spoken,
that harken all lost souls to come,
release their painful burden, some.

So if thee listen close and still
thou’ll hear the souls speak to the will
of babbling brook and forest’s moon,
bring forth their image to float and swoon
upon the forest trail,
curse the stream, haunt and wail.

Yet if the truth be strong in thee
sit by brook and path to see…
Yet if thou heart is black with lies
upon this path, by brook, might die!

For horror’s strong deep current runs
where darkness kept, where souls are summed.
So hold thy truth in hand, and fast,
that thou be strong when midnight cast.
And if ye spirit strong and sure
ye might just hear the closing door
that creaks and moans at one a.m.,
there seal the lost souls in again!

Beware! For once the door is closed,
if lies be thine, or truths untold,
this door in closing might ye catch,
and behind with all lost souls be latched!

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Filed under Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

All Hallows Eve

Sit still beneath the full moon’s stare,
in heart of woods where few souls dare
to pause in quiet, rest and listen
to hear the babbling brook, that glistens
eerily on all hallows night,
by falling shadows and dancing light,
for sighs that come in moans and stirs,
twixt shadowed breeze and moonlight’s blur.

Sit still beside the brook and path,
and into depths of lost souls hath
ye found the opened door to death,
left ajar by those who’ve left
to join a chorus of frightful moans,
on hallows eve, they stir and roam,
to free the burden of their demise,
expose their deathly secrets, rise
from grave and headstone broken,
to seek these woods and brook’s words spoken,
that harken all lost souls to come,
release their painful burden, some.

So if thee listen close and still,
thou’ll hear the souls speak to the will
of babbling brook and forest’s moon,
bring forth their image to float and swoon
upon the forest trail,
curse the stream, haunt and wail.

Yet if the truth be strong in thee,
sit by brook and path to see…
Yet if thou heart is black with lies,
upon this path, by brook, might die!
For horror’s strong deep current runs,
where darkness kept, where souls are summed.
So hold thy truth in hand, and fast,
that thou be strong when midnight cast.
And if ye spirit strong and sure,
ye might just hear the closing door,
that creaks and moans at one a.m.,
there seal the lost souls in again!

So be careful, for once the door is closed,
if lies be thine, or truths untold,
that this door in closing might ye catch,
and behind, with souls lost, shall ye be latched!

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Filed under Photography, Poetry