Halloween(Patrick McGoey) Halloween

The hunger for the day to end, the dark to come, the story penned.
A fold of witches gather round, in hidden places, never found.
And all the boys and girls believe, that they are safe, on Hallows eve.

They don their ugly masks for fun, begging treats, from everyone.
Selfish imps that skitter past, from home to home, then off they dash,
until the hand of time does come, it's twelve o'clock, and they must run.

The spell is cast upon the grave, the witches ride in their parade.
Across the sky on burning brooms, to hunt the children, in costume.
There will be, no better day, for snatching one of them away.

In witching hour and all alone, down the path, towards his home.
The orchards wake with moving arms, that grab his bag, and sound alarm.
They warn him of, what is to come, she's on the way, he can't out run,

the terror that he will behold, the story of his end unfolds.
He has a chance, the house in sight, his mother stands beneath the light.
If he can make it to the tree, he'll be safe, from the banshee.

He starts to run and trips and falls, he hears the scream, the witches call.
The hideous corpse, flies in attack, as fingers claw at neck and back.
To his feet and run for life, oh why did he go out tonight.

On the porch and to the door, jumping through onto the floor.
Safe at last in her arms, he starts to laugh, he's out of harm.
There's nothing like being home, safe and sound, and not alone.

Nestled up against her dress, he cursed the witch with such finesse.
He looked up for the smiling face, but it is gone, and been replaced.
She holds him tight, he starts to smother. It is the witch, and not his mother.

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