Halloween, Samhain or All Hallow's Eve, the eve of... the Day of the Dead.. (El Día de los Muertos)

This is poem number 2 of a series in the build-up to All Hallows Eve... dark, deathly and dangerous times to walk the streets....

the Day of the Dead crawls closer, closer,

candles lean towards dark

as I linger on the threshold my mind sees eyes,

masked spirits smile in lipless faces,

pointed teeth, chewing the flesh of the hanged,

cloaked ghouls climb the black clouds

chanting at the stars,

dead language spells echo in the wind,

the mist of power rises with the moon

and it becomes as ghost.

I am wizard in that hour

join me on my altar,,.be my bride, ..of dark, ..of death.