The Devil's Jump
Na diabhal léim
© 2014 Greg Emerick
As the day begins to fade on All Hallow's Eve,
tempt not your fate, heed my words and believe.
For the night is warm, but feels so cold,
likely from hearing, the legends of old.
For t'was on this night, centuries ago,
that began this unending tale of woe.
Those who were there and witnessed the scene,
saw them doomed to eternity, as the "in between".
Nevermore to breathe, love or laugh,
it was said that their lives were cut in half.
The evil which came on that Hallowe'en night,
was here bringing more than just a mere fright.
Spirits of darkness from ancient times passed,
were sent here relentlessly, with spells to cast.
Curses and incantations in the dark they did hurl.
So frighteningly evil, even your hair would curl.
'Twas the devil himself, ol' Beelzebub their king,
who sent them forth on foot, horseback and wing.
Diabolically evil and simple his plan,
to send to perdition, souls, fast as he can.
Hallowe'en was the only time it could work,
for on this night all manner of evil did lurk.
Hiding in the shadows or behind a stone wall,
seeking the unsuspecting, making them fall.
High on the bluff, up near the sea cliff,
the sky was stormy, the breeze became stiff.
Amongst the stones he saw they were dancing,
filled with drink, singing and even romancing.
To many, harmless and benign this scene might look,
not for the devil, t'was an opportunity, which he soon took.
These folks still adhered to the old religion and ways,
believing that Hallowe'en was one of their high holy days.
Not knowing a gate opened 'twixt that day and it's night,
they did as they chose, without a care if it be right.
Plied with both liquor and an old secret potion,
dimmed their reason, aroused their emotion.
He had them where he wanted, right there in his grasp,
they crafted their own cage, whilst he locked the hasp.
Unwittingly or not, these good folk took the bait,
choosing ne'er ending sorrow as their soon-to-be fate.
High on the cliff above the thundering sea,
right at the edge is where he led them to be.
Still, some say it was the drink, some say his voice.
But there is no question, it was always their choice.
Sixty six souls that night leapt to their death,
smashed on the rocks and drawing no breath.
'Tis said that they are yet here, trapped as ghosts,
lingering hither and yon, near the granite signpost.
It says 'Na diabhal léim', carved deep into the stone,
when the wind blows right, even the cliff will moan.
For it knows full well the count of lost souls,
with the bedrock and boulders playing their roles.
Every Hallowe'en night you'll find me right here,
on the edge of the cliff, but I have no fear.
For I was one of the many, over two centuries ago,
wishing I knew then, that which now, I do know.
No compassion is needed, nor any pity,
I chose my own fate, without a committee.
Old lingering voices, still blow in the wind,
paying their penance, for long ago sins.
If you remain foolish and do that which I've done,
remember there is no ghost or banshee you can outrun.
Hallowe'en can be happy and filled with much laughter,
beware when the sun goes down, for what comes after.
Scarecrows, pumpkins and a witch on a broom,
might be harmless, or could spell your doom.
The Hallowe'en gateway opens just once each year,
be clever, forewarned, and you won't live in fear.
© 2014 Greg Emerick