All Hallows' Eve

The full moon rises, her glow shining through her mantle of dark clouds lured forth from the depths, the aftermath of a storm's vengeance – a sight born to put upon us the night's eldritch weave; a sight truly bred for All Hallows' Eve. She casts shadows throughout this night, falling off innocent objects to become shapes known only to your mind – she leaves a black pall to hang over us all. Even worse, when those nebulous wisps of the sky cast a veil over her, hiding us from her purview, for she was your only guide – now we all are left simply to drift, through this night, evil's gift. All Hallows' Moon, it shall be called, a beacon in the shroud of this night; but don't thank her, for you need light to reveal the depth of the darkness – of your soul, do not allow the blackness bereave, on this sepulchral night, All Hallows' Eve.