Ghouling

‘Tis the night before All-Hallows-Eve
Our gear we’ve packed, set to leave
To roam the streets at ceasing light,
Causing fear and screams for our delight.

The “boo’s” to us; child’s play,
We fright the brain on this Hallowed day.
Like foot prints appearing in settled dust
With none around.  Must be your eyes you trust.
Shaken up you’ll keep on walking
Around the bend, you’ll hear talking.
Reach the spot you heard the words
To find an infant, alone, how absurd.
You’ll pick it up, light as air,
It’s cold and dead with matching stare.
Then the voice’ll come from poor dead baby.
“This can’t be real but- well, just maybe.”
No no no, you won’t believe,
But you’ll stagger back, set to flee.
Those footsteps ‘gain you’ll see them coming,
Faster, quicker, they’re surely running.
An ethereal figure soon appears,
It closes in with you in fear.
And then you’ll faint or just freak out,
Giving us ghouls a sight to laugh about.

The Eve’s after we’ll disappear,
But never stopping causing fear.
For in your dreams we reside
In subconscious musings.  We provide
The visions you fear the most,
Like dread, and death, and lies you boast.
You’ll wake up, soaked with sweat
Yet shaking, freezing. ‘Tis a ghoul I’d bet.
Sustain us do these ‘marish prowlings
‘Till next year’s Eve’s Hallowed ghouling.
If you doubt you’ll soon believe
For tonight’s the night- our Hallows-Eve.