I stand as I was born; in a field keening.
Naked and cool as the snake in my grip.
A guttural chant flows from my ruby lips.
I will tiptoe among the grassy heads peeking.
Merrily skip past gnarled hands reaching.
Pause to cherish the delicate low moaning.
Like flowers in a garden, all of my own.
A twist of my wrist and sacrifice is committed.
Darkness encroaches as they gather to bow.
Eaten, infested, mealy smiles.
A wild upheaval of spirit and mind.
One last chant, one more bind.
Samhain at last is truthfully here.
I will show them that I should be feared…
I wrote this for a fun Halloween event on thecrackedlensview.wordpress.com
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