As the moon rises in the sky,
And the silence echoes to the crow's cry,
The whole town rises,
To knock on doors; seeking their prizes.
But in the dark something else stirs,
As the eerie wind blows through the firs.
The restless rise once more from the grave,
To the moonlight, they are a slave.
In the shadows they do bask,
Faces hidden behind a mask.
Through the streets they do stalk,
And to no one do they talk.
After a second look they dissappear,
Serving only to induce fear,
Within the crowds they hide,
Their own time they bide.
So watch out when seeking your fun,
I hope you are prepared to run,
Your misdeeds they can see,
From them you must always flee.
So on this Halloween night,
I have but one question: trick or treat?
© Copyright 2016 Howlingwolf214. All rights reserved.
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