A Halloween Story
It all begin as grains of sand,
covering a place both wide and flat
open to the moonlight as Luna rises.
When the first breeze blows,
from a whisper to a howl and back
the dead trees, like skeletons,
shiver from cold and fear.
One by one the trees uproot
crackling and rustling, yet silent.
The open space becomes bigger
as they retreat from old knowledge,
waiting for the tide to rise.
One younger stays behind and watches.
Stares at the sand, and ponders,
reaches out and touches it with a root.
The elders, black and dead,
the home to owls and spider webs,
already mourn the youth.
At a touch the grains flicker
like starlight come to life for a moment.
Black shadows, where spirits might hide
if they weren't afraid, too, creep upward.
The sand begins to bubble,
darkness shifts and flows with purpose.
Youth is lost on the youth, foolish youth.
Its root, pulled back at the darkness,
has turned black and gray with ash.
Like torpid terror the ash crawls
up the root and outward, up the trunk
to where leaf and branch shake
and fruit falls like tears of regret.
Now the sand heaves and towers
over the remnant of the youth.
Quickly dispersed by the wind,
dusty ash rises up into the dark clouds
gathering over a moon now red.
The ceremony is nearly met.
Tiny, pitch black grains of sand stand up,
now given meager life by this evil,
and run away as individual thoughts.
Past the trees they scatter, screaming
warnings and imprecations and horror.
The grove stands its ground,
given purpose and meaning by this night.
Where the sand once was, now a bulge grows
pale, even in the blood of the moon.
Rising higher and higher,
until even the clouds eschew the sky.
This abomination is pale like bone
covered by an aura of black so deep
[...] Read more
poem by Poet Dragon
Added by Poetry Lover
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