30 Oct

Devil’s Night

Twas the night before Hal­loween when I and my spouse
Were putting some spooky decor ‘round our house.
The cob­webs were hung by the skele­tons with care
In hopes trick-or-treaters soon we would scare.
We had graves in the gar­den and a grim sev­ered head,
Ghosts, witch­es, and gob­lins and, of course, the undead.

I care­ful­ly draped every creepy cloth flap,
But I had to admit that our sce­nes looked like crap.
Then out on the lawn there arose such a clat­ter
I screamed, and I ran to see what was the mat­ter.
Away to the win­dow I flew like a flash
With thoughts that some van­dals were start­ing to smash.
My fear and anx­i­ety start­ed to grow
As I tried to make out what lurked in the shad­ow.
When what to my won­der­ing eyes did appear?
I scarce dare to tell you; it brought me such fear.

Demons of all sizes–tall, short, thin, and thick–
Led by a horned fig­ure I knew must be Old Nick.
He was huge, red, and ugly with an aura of flame,
And he cursed as he called on his min­ions by name:
“Now, Samael! Now, Yama! Now, Mara and his vix­ens!
Come Ifrits and Samhanach, all crea­tures of male­dic­tion.
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away, all!”
I fled from the win­dow as they rose to the sky
I held my wife close for I feared we’d soon die.

Up to the house­top the dev­ils they flew
I start­ed to pray not know­ing what else to do.
And then, in an instant, I heard on the roof
The claw­ing and paw­ing each cloven hoof.
We decid­ed to hide and were turn­ing around,
but they entered so fast that we quick­ly were found.
Their lead­er came reek­ing of sul­fur and soot.
I want­ed to run, but my dread kept me put.
A skull was the first thing he pulled from his sack.
Just a real­is­tic prop? I was tak­en aback.
As he pulled out more items I cer­tain­ly was wary,
But his wink let me know I should not find him scary.

He and his brood quick­ly start­ed to go
and dec­o­rat­ed our house with skill I’ll nev­er know.
They hung witch­es above and dug tombs under­neath.
On our front door they hung a macabre hol­i­day wreath.
In our win­dow a mon­ster straight from Mary Shel­ley.
Fake blood pools glis­tened like straw­ber­ry jel­ly.
A hiss­ing black cat peered down from a high shelf.
Our house looked quite awe­some, if I say so myself,
Ghosts hung from the ceil­ing by invis­i­ble thread.
Sev­ered arms seemed to grow out of our flow­er bed.
When the dev­ils appeared to have fin­ished their work.

I knew I should thank them to not be a jerk,
But when I walked up to their lead­er I froze.
He nod­ded. He under­stands fear, I sup­pose.
Then to his demons he gave a dis­missal.
The wind as they flew made the sound of whistle.
Then I heard him exclaim as he fad­ed into the night,
“Hap­py Hal­loween to all, and to all a good fright!”

-Kim Z. Dale


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