Poem -

my game of trick-or-treat

floor's start to creekĀ 

windows start to shatterĀ 

doors start to squeakĀ 

souls start to Ā wounderĀ 

winds grown through every houseĀ 

scaring everyone they see

seeing every person they meetĀ 

graves start to unravel them selvesĀ 

the undead comes alive every Halloween (you know)

walking through the town

whispering with the sprites

taking souls that don't believe

believing is key when you have a soul to keepĀ 

the untouchable is me in this game

as you see i believe now the trick-or-treatĀ 

is my game

as my soul a trick

as you're blood a treat

casting spells on you to believe (why not)

you can play my game

of trick-or-treat for a priceĀ 

that will never be betĀ Ā 

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