I won't if I can see you in my dreams

The Reaper's New Crown
Denies me your eager touch
Will thoughts be enough?

Flames licking my fur
Leaves sing to the fiery dance
Earth I shall return

A fortress floats by
Brushing clouds and painting skies
Pass the drowsy eye

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

Who deems themselves worthy to assume,
That we are not real, the Fae folk & Mer,
We simply hide in forests & moonlit cove,
Where there is beauty & greenery we take refuge,
We bless your garden for honey and milk,
Until the spell is broken & Nature undone,
Burning woodlands and bullets to the hunt,
Fairies fleeing in numbers beyond reckoning,
No longer left alone in songs & hymns,
Mountains & woodlands reshaped in twisted sport,
Blessed be those who believe in magic,
Bless them quick for time is short

As October ends
  Differences mean little
    We ghouls need friends too