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A mist lay o’er the old town square,
As candles flicker in cottage eyes,
To venture out, no one may dare,
Emboldened fool will surely die.
In darkened night the moon lay black,
Unearthly pitch to ward off man,
Fear for those who’ve not come back,
Fell prey to Satan’s ghastly plan.
Yon forest breaths the caw of crows,
Hoot Owls cry echoes resound,
In what direction no one knows,
From high above the mossy ground.
What Hell bestowed on sky and earth,
In shrill and curdling scream,
Instilled by evils wretched birth,
Unfurled in nightmarish dream.
The butcher lay to weed us out,
His sickle bathed in blood and spoils,
Gullet cut, no voice to shout,
Easy prey…Nay! sweatless toil.
Demon cloaked in onyx murk,
Ne’er seen with mortal’s naked view,
O’ terror, we shan’t let caution shirk,
Vigilant we must all struggle through.
Pray to God the sun will rise,
Beseech the villain back to Hell,
Look upon Heaven to flay disguise,
Release from prison where we dwell.
Still sun will set and night will grow,
No closer to trapping the horrid beast,
In faces of strangers and kin we know,
Who next be the blood bathed gory feast.
A tap at the door…whom by God could it be,
Overwhelmed with the play of the mind,
Ever slow did I open through pitch could not see,
Peeking head ‘round the door from behind.
Twas it wind, or rain, mayhaps a stone at it threw,
I presumed was a knock at the door,
Mustered courage did I gather to do what I must do,
As I shuffled myself to the porch.
An icy chill did rise, up the length of my spine,
As the door slammed behind me with haste,
Extinguishing candles, immersing me blind,
Backing up in my steps I did trace.
My next to last step to my knees did I fall,
At the boots of a figure in black,
Turning ‘round, sure to face my funeral pall,
To the side of my head he did crack.
Taste of blood on my lips, as the iron from a fire,
Blurred vision as I’m yanked by my hair,
To my feet I was dragged to the square of the shire,
Say a word, nay I wouldn’t have dared.
In silence, with strength this devil held tight,
Pray I did, for my soul to please save,
As courage I gathered with all of my might,
I begged for my death to be staved.
With sickle in hand I knew time was through,
Pay the piper for sins of my youth,
Upright and firm, though in pain it was true,
In death sins be hidden from truth.
Blade razor sharp from my neck blood did fall,
Crimson rivers down my chest it did spill,
A stroke from the edge warm and tired was all,
Up to God I commit all my will.
When daybreak did come to reveal gruesome site,
To Hell where the demon had fled,
Nary trace did he leave from his pitch darkened flight,
Except for the shire dwellers head.
A century on, Satan’s minion ne’er captured,
Legend passed down through third generations,
Unsettled and fearful still awaiting the rapture,
Asking God for consoling libations.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~