In the dead of night,
When the trick or treaters have fled,
And the sugar rush has peaked,
The moon rises high,
Its terrorized soul seeking refuge,
Behind ghostly clouds that gather and cover.
The streets are empty,
Save for the disembodied sounds of laughter,
And the rustle of autumn leaves,
As the wind whispers secrets,
Of ghouls and ghosts that roam free,
On this eerie All Hallows’ Eve.
The moon’s light casts shadows,
Foul and twisted like a witches’ brew,
And the chill in the air,
Sends shivers down the bravest of spines.
Yet the children might still be safe,
Asleep in their beds,
Dreaming of the treats they’ve devoured,
And the costumes they wore,
As they traversed the streets,
In search of sugary delights.
The moon watched over them,
A silent guardian in the sky,
Hopeless to protect them,
From the terrors of the night,
But still shining bright,
A beacon of light in the darkness,
Until the dawn breaks,
And the ghosts of the night,
Flee back to their hiding places.
The New Renaissance Mindset 