It is the darkest evening of the year
It is a night of gruesome fear
A night when bloodlust is at its peak
And the streets, of death and decay, reek
A night when nightmares defy their boundaries
And fill dreamers with endless quandaries.
At the graveyard where the screams of the damned souls
Echo in terror and endless doles,
I lean on a tombstone, all worn, half-dead
My sides blood-soaked, dripping drops, dark red
With my last few breaths, I recount my tale
My dark sonnets, my woe-filled gale
Sit back, relax and savor the gore
Don’t blink, don’t turn, don’t make for the door