| General Poetry
posted September 14, 2019 |
Legend has it.
On Halloween, the spirits walk,
the veil becomes thin,
that separates us from the dead,
Who freely then, come in.
There is a mansion on a street,
where only for one night,
eerie music emanates.
Giving passersby a fright.
A piano sits in a window,
with a lady dressed in white.
Playing melancholy tunes,
on each Halloween night.
They say a hundred years ago
before she could be wed,
a jealous lover took a knife,
and stabbed the woman dead.
Her husband to be, crazy with grief,
hung himself that night.
Just there in that corner window,
you can see the noose wrapped tight.
Strange things happen within those walls,
soft moans, quick footsteps fall.
Every time the house is searched,
they find nothing at all.
On Halloween though, the curtain is pulled,
to let all of us see.
Her blood stained dress and sad, slow smile,
while the music plays so free.
It's rumored if she points at you,
ill fortune will be yours.
It might be best that you're not seen,
lest it's you she points towards.
So if you dare, walk down Branch Street,
this Halloween in the dark.
Set back among the towering trees,
a short walk through the park.
To see the bride all decked in blood,
the groom just overhead.
Still waiting for their wedded bliss,
not knowing they are dead.
On Halloween, the spirits walk,
the veil becomes thin,
that separates us from the dead.
Who freely then, come in.
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