Once upon a stormy night,
it was a dark and dreary time.
Did you hear the one about…
You’re not going to believe this rhyme.
It all begins on Halloween,
this scary tale I’ve yet to weave.
I do not know the ending yet;
it took so long, the start to leave.
I’m sure there’re bats and witch’s brew,
lightning crackling in the sky,
the mournful howls of shrouded souls,
an icy breeze when ghosts glide by.
Something frightening will occur,
a horrid nightmare come to life.
We must escape impending doom.
A curse? a ghoul? a bloodied knife?
Though terror strikes, Good will prevail.
Ghosts disappear with dawn’s first light.
We’ll be forewarned of danger still
in shadows deep on stormy nights.
And so it ends, as all tales do.
The rest is history as they say.
We all live happily ever more.
We live to fight another day.
The details of this scary tale —
as sketchy as they seem to be —
are yours to conjure in your mind
and fill the blanks in as you please.
If any moral lies herein,
I leave that point for you to hone.
The yarns I spin unravel fast.
Collect the threads and weave your own.