Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Cynthia Bryant
It is All Hallows Eve
With restless spirits stirring
As a family man departs
With the intention to acquire smoking tobacco
Left behind—
His pregnant wife and small fairy-princess
Greet trick-or-treaters
Who come to their door for sweets
The hour grows late
As the assorted barrage
Of ghosts, monsters and clowns
Thin considerably with time
Suddenly the doorbell rings a warning
The tired wife answers unaware
Expects small hungry goblins
Finds instead a full grown beast
Who wears the mask of a wolf
The beast rushes forward
growls machete in hand
Hacks flesh from the terrified woman's body
Her screams abruptly end
The bloodbath continues
The unborn child,
Ripped from the dying mother’s body
A small-horrified fairy-princess watches
Hidden behind the old comfortable couch
It gives comfort no more
As the beast,
Tears off the sweaty wolf mask
Reveals nothing in his blankly serene face
The hideousness within his eyes
Contain it all

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