A feverish dream under the phantom twilight,
The tiny hamlet rests on a colossal pumpkin,
The gargantuan bulbous emerges every Hallow’s Eve
Carrying with it an ominous kin,
The Pumpkin Folk are eccentric & gaunt,
From Dainty Betty to Growling Bob,
They speak very little, eyes bloodshot,
Bent on making menacing faces on Jack-O-Lanterns,
The air sweetens as they carve & peel,
Until an unfamiliar gallop draws near,
The headless rider with an ethereal glow knows no halt,
His battle charge mocks the very tempest Nature spawned,
Terror looms over the Pumpkin Folk but their Elder came forth,
‘Oh Great Fiend, what is it you seek?’

*******! Your pumpkin island looked smaller up North
Guess the perfect head will have to wait

As October ends
  Differences mean little
    We ghouls need friends too

Last vampire defying the living,
Bite swift canine's a given,
Decapitating slayers like a guillotine,
Stacking bloodpacks fight's unending,
The after-image mirage in a vision,
Tearing the jugular respiratory failing,
Flaunting words wearing them like a pendant,
Death of my master means vengeance

How would the Light within you,
Display itself in a vivid many,
From a wave so serene,
To a chaotic torrent I too hope to see

Part with not only the penny, but all your sorrow

Oh I know it all too well,
The desperate search for adequate telling
Of Scent, Taste, Colors, so refined
Imagery so sublime, worthy of a waltz with the pen
But do it quick
Do it now
Before all sense of my usefullnes flutters away again
Then I'd have to cut myself
To describe pain
Since that's all I have left