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 |