Flown from Africa in October twilight,
Strange and bizarre, it looked I was.
Icy cold rattled deep my petite crust,
Just like in a foreign and alien cosmos.

Bunked in a flophouse I did not know,
It was dreaded and a terrifying night.
All alone in the midst of suprising fear,
Folks with scary and abysmal regalia.

Like Dracula with forged pliable fangs,
Painted faces white and pointed red fingers.
Wall a portrait grave and mystical dead eyes,
Nightmare of scaring voices of denizens.

Autumn plants turn radiant gold and red,
The forecast of fortune, luck and divination.
Rituals and sacraments in the day of the Dead,
The spookiest night of the year, Halloween!

-kolapoems@gmail.com / Oct 31, 202

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