SofHpoetry.html

SofHpoetry.html

All Hallow's Eve

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Out among the ghosts and witches

where the ghouls are digging ditches

seeking cold, unsavory riches for their mad, unholy rites,

lurk the imps of Satan's regions, Hell's infernal, ghastly legions,

Hades' dark, demonic legions - legions of unearthly sprites,

seeking hideous delights.

Wicked games of mirthless mayhem - only fiendish devils play them.

Still, their bigotries betray them. Hear them shrieking in the night?

Hatred, violent divisions, godless oaths, depraved derisions,

darkest fantasies and visions - visions of Plutonic might;

dreams of monumental power, dreams of full Satanic might.

For the "highest place" they fight.

On and on the demons battle - hear their bones and weapons rattle

as they war for worthless prattle, as they fight for empty lies?

'Til at last the dawn approaches, silencing the snide reproaches,

calling down Death's ebon coaches from the swiftly changing skies,

sent by Lucifer, the Devil, Beelzebub, Lord of the Flies.

Even evil finally dies.

fate . . .

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Between the slats a bloodshot eye

peers out at people passing by

In silence, he sits patiently

behind a broken window pane.

He waits alone, and quite insane.

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