On Samhain’s Eve, the spirits roam
The ones whom Earth was once their home,
Alive or dead - the lines are blurred,
On this hallowed night, souls are stirred.
~
Platters of treats act as a boon,
Bony hands gleam under the moon.
Bonfires glow like a beacon star
To guide them to Sheol, afar.
~
Preparing for the crucial step,
Ma drew a line across my neck.
It dripped and seeped muted maroon,
Life seeping out, a fatal wound.
~
She mussed my hair, shred up my clothes,
Sent me to play after my oaths.
I wandered around through the dark,
When faraway I saw a spark.
~
I found some children dressed like me,
Shapes unclear, a shrouded mys’try.
A little girl with hollowed cheeks,
And sunken eyes that cannot seek.
~
A boy whose smile won’t form quite right,
Whose chest bears wounds of some lost fight.
Another, pale as winter’s frost,
Blue bruises where his breath was lost.
~
A girl holds close a heavy babe,
Its swollen face half-formed, decayed.
Her skin stretched with a bulging cheek,
She leaned askance, her neck too weak.
~
They saw my wound and looked so sad -
But welcomed me in, took my hand.
They taught me plays I’d never seen,
We twirled around with tambourines.
~
Midnight waned, and we all grew slow,
Too bad we’d have to end the show.
As I went, they begged me to stay -
To join their ceaseless cabaret.
~
They reached for me with fading hands,
Wounds burning in my eyes like brands.
I realized we were not the same -
I was acting, but they’d been slain.
~
For on that night when realms entwine,
A costume’s thread can hold the line.
I ran to Ma, and held her tight—
For I had danced with Death that night.
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