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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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