Tit for tat.
You started that.
With actions so cruel and mean.
We were fine
On our own
In the forest, quite alone.
Until we heard the first widow scream.
Her fright
Pierced the night.
Halting our dances under the light
Of the bright, bright, bright, harvest moon.
In tribes and clans
We swept across our lands
Towards the sounds of terror mounting.
Atop roofs and deep doors
We crouched
Ready for wars.
Our countenance fierce and frightening.
For their charity
We defend
The spinsters and lonely women
Against the horrors of children flouting
All honor and respect
Shrill voices loud with threat
Their chorus a malicious chanting
Trick or treat.
Give us something good to eat.
Or by dawn, your house will be burning.
So we crept into the street
Shadows dogging their feet
Spells draining their youth and arrogance
Once the veil closes
The boyos
They knows it
Their souls are owned by the damned
