Restless Night

Night descends upon the trees
And mist cloaks the earth in shifting swirls
Bewitching the eye to see what is not there
Crawling forth are unquiet spirits
Lost souls angered
Caught between life and death

Malicious presence, unseen but still felt
Haunting echoes of a past life's regrets
Listen to the laments of the restless wailing dead
A thousand souls damned and full of hatred unbound

No rest this night as a ragged white gown
Yet conspires to haunt this wretched black life
What spirit is this that sends chills up my spine?
Horrid threnodies causing blood to freeze in my veins
Lying awake in the darkness
Lest this spectral nightmare take my life

Funereal callings outside of my threshold
Oh gods, will the dawn ever come?
Scratchings and knocking
Its cries filling the night
The sound of my death-knell tolling in my mind

This night seems to last for eternity
Is there no escape from this macabre terror?
Shall I slit my wrists or swallow poison?
Anything to escape the fearsome ghast assaulting my sanity

It is here!
Swirling, half-seen form
Reaching out as if to rend my very soul
I cry out in fear, the knife wavering before my eyes

There is no escape
My mind is rent
As I back into a corner
No more fleeing from this phantom before me

It calls for my death
Hate and rage flicker from empty eyes
Will it claim my soul?
No, it cannot be
I turn the blade inward and slash my arms
Unearthly howls the last sound I shall ever hear
Screaming thwarted rage as my eyes grow dim

-S

Cute, but the poetry contest isn't for another 4 days.
-G

I for one, really enjoyed it. I will be entering the contest as well.

I have no need of contests to feed my ego.
If the muse strikes, I will write.
Is this not the time of year for dark tales to spur the imagination on cold nights?

-S

For thus has skill and talent of rhyme
Mr. S, I wish to speak with you in due time
so to learn from you, a writer in prime.
Since this lyric is so bad, I feel that I'm
obscuring public order and committing a crime
By posting this publicly as the first bell chimes.

If it isn't too late, you should publish this to the Chronicle.
This month is fear.