All Hallow's Eve

I walk along this darkened road
knowing not what ill abodes
beneath the harvest moon
of me the night demands a choice
as trees whisper with rasping voice
“the witching hour looms!”

when black secrets the moon keeps
and spirits wake from slumber deep
echoes on the wind cry
the light has gone and darkness falls
and all about the wraiths do call
“the witching hour’s nigh!”

the forgotten souls of yore rise
severing their empyreal ties
to dance upon the mere
as lost I wander in faery rings
aloud I hear them madly sing
“the witching hour’s here!”