Below is the poem entitled ON ALL HALLOW'S EVE which was written by poet
MacMillan. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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My love awaits his grave amongst the new dead
while a sickle moon harvests this sickened soul,
Come midnight, sharp teardrops will prickle my bed,
Then madness will trickle, engulf a heart whole.
Shadows skulk past crypts as though fearing the wild
keening of mothers and weak whimpers of child,
While I clutch his cold hand, choosing to believe
that death loosens its grip on All Hallow’s Eve.
by Cyndi MacMillan, Oct 8, 2012
For Russell Sivey's Ultimate Halloween Contest
*My first Rispetto