The time has
come for all to see,
the horror that brews on hallows eve.
The sun will set and the night shall fall,
as ghost long lost heed demons calls.
A gathering of spirit's on the next cold night.
The scream's of children and parents alike.
The fear of the dead, fill each and all.
Ghouls of the night will beckon the call.
A celebration of the dead, it's symbol the skull.
Though many may not, realize it at all.
The horror it claims may be your very own.
So keep your head on your shoulders until your safe at home.
The hours grow short as you await the suns rise.
Staring into the void of fear and demise.
You can hear the winds, scream ghostly sounds.
The fear of death heard as your heart pounds.
Time has not stopped your fear will subside.
The cold of the night and all it hides.
A night of celebration as it comes to and end.
The dead will be remembered again and again.
So as you sit and read this Halloween poem,
remember the dead as they are not alone.
A celebration of life, walking so close to death.
We celebrate the spirits of the loved and missed dead.
by: BT