The Letting

When the thunder roars and the lighting strikes

And the witch screams out in the night

When the driving rain makes the trees insane

Till children and adults cry in fright

As the living dead fill strong hearts with dread

Headless riders race one last ride

Upon the foggy bogs over ancient logs

Where even ghosts cannot abide

On that hallowed night in specter’s sight

With bats screeching terrors told

You’ll pay the cost of all souls lost

In your vaulted crypt growing cold

The father’s sins of past, like illusions cast

Arise from gene pools deep

Tonight I’ll feed, with blood lust need

Till engorged once more I’ll sleep!