Poems for Halloween #1

   
The steps in the dark were a trick to traverse--
      I’d been heading downstairs for a while.

Upon reaching a spot where some moonlight was perched,
   I sought the soft light to negate the night’s guile.
Out the window, by chance, was a figure, of sorts;
   A small palette of flesh, and a sketchy profile.

   It took shape when I saw its stained pearls and white orbs:
      A face with a sinister smile.


      “I guess I’ll go scare off this reprobate stranger,”
         I thought, like an arrogant child.

   I stepped with my toes quietly beneath the danger,
      And soon quickly paused out the door on the tile.
   ‘Til I heard the door creak and shut loudly behind me.
      I twisted so sharply, my life lost a mile.

      And, there, through the window, in the room I left blindly
         Was the face with the sinister smile.


   I pulled at the door as though pulling a boulder,
      And couldn’t stay firm on the tile.

My muscles strained so that they ripped out my shoulder.
   As I fought, the face eerily watched all the while.
“That’s enough!” and I sprinted around toward the front.
   With each breath, in my chest I swear I could taste bile.

   The demon was there, too, preёmpting the hunt,
      Its bright eyes opened wide by its smile.


      The door was unlocked, thank the gods, so I entered
         And climbed over the couch like a stile.

   I saw nothing, surveilling the room from the center.
      The creature had lured me with masterful wile.
   Then, a sack of limbs crashed on the floor up above me.
      I rushed up the stairs--every step was a trial.

      At the foot of the door where I stopped, I could see
         Standing over my wife was the smile.

   I offered my soul to the spectre to leave her.
      Its crazed body was twisting and wild,

While its voiceless mouth moved like a horse at its feeder.
   “I won’t let you!” I shrieked as I lunged a short mile.
My eyes blanked at the movement, so quickly I dropped,
   And I woke on the floor having blacked-out a while.

   I stared straight before me, blood frozen, heart stopped...
      My wife’s neck was bright red with a smile.

      I finally stood, like a balancing paper.
         I could pick out the light on the dial.

   It was quarter past six, when sunlight is still vapor,
      It’s white whisper had spread through the room, wet and vile.
   My sight was still fogged, yet I could see from beneath:
      Cold on the floor was my love, peaceful and mild.

      And I saw in the glass above, baring my teeth,
         Was the face with a sinister smile.