By V. Evermore
Under autumn skies, trees become aflame,
Lit in reds, yellows, and oranges,
Chaos is in the air, wildness, the untamed,
As October whispers its ancient name.
The winds begin to howl through the trees,
Carrying secrets upon the breeze,
While shadows dance where the moonlight falls,
And forgotten spirits answer its calls.
Pumpkins glow with crooked grins,
As the witching hour slowly begins,
The veil grows thin between here and there,
And something wicked stirs in the air.
Leaves tumble down like spells from the sky,
While restless ravens circle and cry,
The stars peek through the gathering gloom,
As midnight flowers prepare to bloom.
Down winding roads where the lanterns sway,
The ghosts of yesterday come out to play,
Their laughter echoes through fields of gold,
Awakening mysteries never told.
The moon hangs heavy, a silver eye,
Watching the living as spirits pass by,
And deep in the woods where the wild things roam,
The lost and forgotten are finding their home.
For October is more than a season of fright,
It’s a beautiful madness that comes with the night,
A dance between darkness, wonder, and flame,
Where nothing awakens quite the same.
And when the last ember of autumn has died,
And the restless shadows have nowhere to hide,
Remember the magic that October once gave—
For even the darkness has beauty to save.
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