Vicious Haunts of the Dead
Ghastly sights on the day of the dead frighten me,
Zombie ghouls from the grave will arise from afar
With a howl and a scream sodden ghost running free
Come the fear of dying ‘neath the moon and the star.
On a cold October autumn night keeping watch,
Lest the hand of the witch grab my leg, drag me down
From the rags of my shirt, a demon takes a swatch
I do fear nasty grins of the mime-painted clown.
Vicious haunts of the dead still doth lurk in shadows
Like the pall of one corpse from the hole ever near,
The poor soul freely hangs from old wooden gallows
While I flee like a thief in the night out of fear.
From the depth of my grief here on earth, you hear it,
The deep sighs of my past are still here in spirit.
Written October 17, 2022
[an English-style Sonnet
14 lines of 12 syllables each]
Submitted to "All Hallows' Evening" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Craig Cornish
POEM OF THE DAY
October 19, 2022
Copyright © L MILTON HANKINS | Year Posted 2022
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