By day each soul must walk within its shadow. Only night can make us whole again.

Hobgoblins know the proper way to dance: Arms akimbo, loopy legs askew, Leaping into darkness with delight, Lusting for the ecstasy of fright, Open to the charm of horrors new.

Joy requires one to be awake, Adjusting the heart's ambience to bright. Some prefer the dark, as is their right, On grounds of agony, and to forsake Not only bliss, but all that's blessed by light.

By day each soul must walk within its shadow. Only night can make us whole again.

Halloween wraps fear in innocence, as though it were a lightly sour sweet. Let terror, then, be turned into a treat.

Only night can make us whole again.

Angels are quite ample cause to cry.