All the ghosts are here tonight
from underneath the bed.
The ones from closets thought forgotten,
the ones within my head.

Harpies sing from hymns unsung,
shadows one step behind.
Spider crawls along my finger,
inspires my troubled mind.

Of darkness I speak, of darkness and doom,
cold blackness all mine alone.
The bones of all that went before,
they weep and sob and moan.

This is my hell, to sort and find
the passage to some light,
but I'm dinning on my flesh you see,
on this All Hallows' Night