The Rising

The Halloween season comes…

The thing I hunt,
it lurks in every shadow
that ever consumed a human soul:
In crevices and pits and fens
it hides, and snarls softly–
knows I’m here…
I hear it breathing, very near,
and I am ready–
must be ready for it
–when it rages up
and out from pit and fen–

to cast my spear, my will, my spell, —
I mean to conquer
and compell!

Even now, upon
the mountains’ cutting edge
the glowing moon, it sets a-light
and limns the highest peaks–
It pales the night,
obscures the blessed stars,
this crescent blade of moonlight rising… 
Great Gods, I feel it near!
It stands beside me in the night!
I cannot sort it’s cursed breath from mine…! 
Ah Gods! I must be strong,
I must prevail… !

The moon comes full
and brilliant in the sky…
It reaches up,
it chokes my cry–!
It rises from the shadows,

pits and fens
Of my own inner soul…
And howls in ecstasy
and celebrates the darkness
and the rising of the moon…!

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