Night’s pale spirit dashes spiderwebbing upon earth,
Like villians 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 comforts ghosts banned from bliss,
As they hide from Inferno’s 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 to sweep away specters and their weeps,
And cast spiderwebs of His own...
Comfort brought to little ones as they arise,
Oblivious to the crypts under tread.
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