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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required In the chill of night, when shadows dance and sway, A tale of Halloween, I'm bound to convey. A story woven from the threads of scare, Beware the whispers in the haunted air. In a quaint old town, where cobwebs hung, Where eldritch secrets from the rafters clung, The people gathered, dressed in fright, To celebrate the Eve where day meets night. The moon, a ghostly galleon, sailed the sky, As children laughed and revelers did cry, "Trick or treat!" they'd chant with glee, Unaware of the true horror, soon to be. Beneath the Hunter's Moon, a figure stood, A specter draped in tattered hood, With eyes like embers, glowing in the night, It watched the townsfolk with an eerie delight. "Boo!" it whispered, soft as velvet breeze, And one by one, the laughter ceased. For those who heard, their blood ran cold, As ancient dread within their hearts took hold. The figure moved, a silent, creeping blight, Through the town it glided, out of sight, Leaving in its wake a silent, deadly trace, A chill that clung like a spectral embrace. The revelers, they felt it, deep within, A primal fear, a shivering skin, For the figure in the shadows was no mortal being, But a malevolent force, its true form unseeing. It chose its prey with a malicious grin, A young man, costumed, full of sin, It followed him down the moonlit lane, And in its gaze, he felt a deadly strain. He turned to face the spectral foe, His heart did race, his courage low, But too late did he realize the plight, That he was now the creature's chosen for the night. With a final scream, the man was claimed, By the horror that could not be named, And the townspeople, they'd always remember, The Halloween when fear was truly tender. So heed this rhyme when autumn leaves do fall, And the veil is thin, and spirits call, For on All Hallow's Eve, when ghouls do roam, You might just find you're not alone.
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