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Dread Night
Dread Night
Was a night full of life,
Filled with trouble and strife,
When a man couldn't even find peace with his wife.
With a full moon on high
A night full of the cry
Of a wolverine baying for blood.
Was a night full of death
Of the Reaper's grim breath
And the real world living the doom of MacBeth.
A night when raw fear
Brought mortality near
When a river might burst into flood.
Was a night scant of hope
When a noose and a rope
Meant the end of a highwayman's slippery slope.
When voices were hushed
And journeys were rushed
Though the safety of home was not real.
Was a night when men prayed
And old women soothsayed,
When a careless word might cause the flash of a blade.
When life stood at the edge
Of a sheer craggy ledge
Awaiting the turn of Death's wheel.
Was a night bare and stark
When a dog dare not bark
And folks prayed for dawn and the sound of the lark.
When spectres might prowl
To the hoot of an owl
And a cat waited patient for prey.
Was a night full of dread
When the souls of the dead
Gave voice to those things which were best left unsaid.
When even a thief
Gave a sigh of relief
At the sky's early fingers of grey.
Copyright ©
Brian K. Bilverstone
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