Come the end of each October,
when the skies look grey and sober,
When the mist rolls on the water,
falls this dark All Hallows Night.
Keening wind that moans and mutters,
round the window panes and shutters;
Dreary rain that fills the gutters,
stains the stone that once was white.
Then, the dead can walk unhindered,
walk abroad till dawn’s first light.
Nameless horrors taking flight.
Gates of Hell, that death unhitches;
vampires, demons, wolves and witches,
Loosed upon this world of sorrow –
all Pandora’s boxed delight.
Lucifer, whose voice like thunder,
rends the tombs and crypts asunder,
Raise the dead from six feet under;
zombies stalk you through the night.
Seek the flesh that may release them
from apocalyptic plight
On this dark, All Hallows night.
Werewolf shape-shifts in the shadows
of the trees beside the meadows,
Where the cattle graze and tremble
at its fearful howls, in fright.
Werewolf wends his wayward wander,
through the woods to houses yonder,
Snatches small child from beyond her
mother’s reach and darkened sight.
Feeds upon the bloody carcass
of the poor angelic mite;
One more death on Hallows night.
Spectre of the child now haunting
woodland glade where death came, taunting:
Mournful cries, she calls for parents
passed beyond the veil of night.
Ever is she doomed to prowling,
like the wolf her lonely howling,
When full devil moon is scowling,
echoes through the silver light.
She will wander, ever searching
for release from demon’s might.
Just one more All Hallows night.
To the Sabbat, broomstick riding
witches with black cats confiding.
Open heath beneath the sky, where
Satan calls them in their flight.
Naked, round the fire dancing,
widdershins the circle prancing,
Chanting, even though they can’t sing,
to perform unholy rite.
Pan, the horn-clad god presiding,
knowing all with second sight,
Ruler of All Hallows night.
Crucible and cauldron boiling,
now they cast their spells, despoiling
Fields of corn with fungus growth, a
pestilence of mildewed blight.
Calves may die before the morrow,
bringing farmers grief and sorrow;
They, for comfort, seek to borrow,
holy words to ease their plight.
But the dogma from the churches
has no Godly power to fight
Darkness this unholy night.
Vampire, rising from the grave, he
mocks the vampire killer, bravely
Armed with crucifix and stake of
wood, who dares to stand and fight.
Vampire bites the hapless hero,
drains his blood from full to zero;
Stands and laughs like Emperor Nero
watched Rome burn in flames so bright.
Wipes the blood from fangs which gleam in
pallid, sickly-pale moonlight.
He’s undead, tonight’s his night.
Rain on rotting linen falling,
listening to the old ones calling
From the pyramids in Egypt,
stands the mummy, bandaged tight.
Now’s the time he must deliver
talisman of ancient river,
Stolen from the life-force giver;
to his Pharaoh lost despite
Knowledge he would live forever
‘mong the constellations bright
Of this sacred Hallows night.
Hid behind a sepulcher of
lichened stone, with matted hair, a
Ghoul of once commanding stature
stares into the darkening night.
Crouching low deformed and hoary,
eats dead human flesh: that’s gory;
He could tell a gruesome story
connoisseurs of fear and fright.
Will you listen to his ramblings?
Will you listen now, despite
Needs to flee this morbid sight?
Though you’ve all had ample warning
that you may not live till morning,
Still, the last day of October’s
welcomed in with great delight.
Standing on the doorstep, bandy-
legged children beg for candy
In their costumed garb so dandy,
fearless of the ghastly sight
That awaits them in the shadows
Hides another evil sprite
This macabre All Hallows night.