Pumpkin Head
La bruja hechicera,
with an impious hex,
from the marshlands
beneath a foul swampy
grave, she indeed
summon Pumpkin Head.
Rage is how his master
wheels revenge; For the
harsh reckless fatal end
of some young spirit slain.
His Abyss fiend ghastly nights
of vengeance spreads.
'Tis best, no wise,
to kneel in silent prayer.
Repent for it's the only tool
that might soothe
the impinging gloom
of dark that looms.
For those he stalks
don't stand a chance;
Reaper's minion seeks
to quench his thirst with
the bloody-blugent preys,
la hechicera dooms.
Sinners atone, when fate
confronts ones wicker fort
of faith that rots.
When weapons and screams
like wood ablaze, excite
his callus, morbid heart.
For condemned are those
who bear her mark.
He's spawned to dissecting hunt.
The next dawn are found;
Heads severed....
with bods from limbs apart.
Copyright © Lissette J. Garcia | Year Posted 2024
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