I never thought I'd revisit this work, but I believe I've improved it substantially with a rough spot it used to have in the second verse.
Night's pale spirit dashes spiderwebs upon earth,
Like villains cast onto silver screens,
Lying without breath; but breathing, as wind affects,
To spook our children on All Hallows' Eve.
Creaks and cackles echo,
While creep jostles our own essence.
This imparts solace upon howling ghosts,
Who excape from Inferno's demented joy.
Clamoring so, and wailing,
Lost souls seek new abodes;
Haunting our windows as light upon memories;
Whisking about, agitated, frustrated...then night wanes.
Apollo rides out with his own cast of characters,
To sweep away specters and their weeps,
And comfort bring to little ones as they arise,
Oblivious to the crypts under tread.