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Halloween Harvester Of Souls 

It was October.   The time was right, or was it now, or later
It’s all the same to me, stuck here in isolation
Ripe for exploitation
The parents took off to Europe for a spell
My medication makes me swoon
The moon sliced its way into my room and made a pattern.
It appeared to be quite green, a specter thing, an apparition  
Several days before Halloween, furniture levitated
A wicked storm came up from hell with demons on the spot
Took out the moon and electric with clouds and lightning strikes
Trapped in my bed with flu, I could not leave
Chairs disappeared at first and then the rugs and mirrors
Pictures on the bureau, paintings on the wall; vanished one and all 
I dared not sleep as green creates oozed from cracks
Down the hall and under doors they crept with howling sounds
I slipped into a sleep for just a second
Then my bed became a ghost
Only peeling paint remained on walls and ceiling 
Everything I ever owned or knew was gone 
It was the evil harvester at work, hunting Halloween souls
I was all alone, with nothing left but me, exposed to evil
And of course my soul for company
In a dark dark room
There was nothing to hold on to but four walls and screams


Created on 9/08 14 for - In A Dark Dark Room...Halloween – Poetry Contest

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