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The veil between the worlds grows thin,
A night for magic, ancient and grim,
When spirits wander, shadows grow bold,
And whispers of stories, ages old,
Echo through the rustling leaves,
As the harvest moon softly weaves.

Once, when the world was young and wild,
People honored the harvest, mild,
And thanked the earth for bounty's grace,
With offerings placed in a sacred space,
For spirits of the earth, to appease,
And ensure a future full of ease.

They dressed in costumes, masks of fright,
To scare away the spirits of night,
And ward off any malevolent spell,
With bonfires blazing, stories they tell,
Of heroes and legends, whispered low,
In the chill of the night, where shadows grow.

With time, the customs changed and grew,
The ancient rituals, fading from view,
But still, the spirit of Halloween remains,
A night of wonder, joy, and pains,
Where children gather, dressed in glee,
And carve pumpkins, bright and free.

Now, the holiday takes on a new form,
A night for laughter, in a playful storm,
Of candy and costumes, and tricks and treats,
A celebration that every heart meets,
With the echoes of ancient rituals, untold,
In the dance of shadows, stories unfold.

But deep within the heart of the night,
Beneath the moon's ethereal light,
The whispers of the ancient past remain,
A reminder of the magic, a timeless refrain,
Of spirits, and harvests, and the earth's embrace,
On this night of shadows, in time and space.

So let the laughter fill the air,
Let the costumes be a joyful snare,
For Halloween is a night to be bold,
A night of stories, yet to be told,
Where the veil is thin, and shadows dance free,
A celebration of the spirit, wild and free.

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