The 31st

The ominous winds of autumn sweep through the crisp evening air
A cool gray October day darkens as the night prepares
Dull-colored, dry leaves fall slowly to the earth below
And all around is quiet and still, sending a chill from head to toe
A crafty and curious black cat prowls a pumpkin patch nearby
As the surroundings are set aglow by the bright, full moon in the sky
Tonight a twilight of terror will shine over this sleepy little town
For this is when the veil is thinnest and the Undead come back around
The street is lurking with shadows, both sinister and misunderstood
And they beckon you down a dark trail just outside the neighborhood
It leads to an overgrown cornfield where the crows all squawk and cower
At a scarecrow stalking overhead and rumored to walk the midnight hour
An abandoned barn filled with bats sits only a few yards away
And a rusty old pitchfork gathers dust while propped against some hay
Mist rises and figures swirl above the deep and distant pond
And eerie echoes carry a soulful message of the spirits' sad, longing song
The path continues down a shady dirt road where the trail is lined with trees
And an owl overhead hoots an omen of wisdom to the adventurous and foolhardy
Those who dangerously venture the woods at night are most certainly in for a fray
For mysterious creatures that shun the light skulk the dark for prey
And in the heart of it all stands a lone, aging cabin suspected of toil and trouble
Inside the stench of a potion is brewing as the fire burns and cauldron bubbles
A long-legged spider spins down from the ceiling hoping to find a bite
And an old, snaggle-toothed witch sits and rocks in the corner, watching with great yellow eyes
Just outside of her hut lies a forgotten cemetery where the ghosts of the past still plead
A warning to all who do not respect the dead and tread carefully on All Hallow's Eve