Her hair is golden like the sun
Her lips are ruby red
Her eyes are brilliant shades of blue
Such an angelic head
Her skin is pale as winter’s ice
Her veins a lovely blue
Her finger nails are pink and prim
The dirt is lovely too
Her legs are long and very lean
Though one is out of place
Her feet are hidden inside shoes
He finds it a disgrace
Her clothes lay neatly upon her
But they’re in tatters there
It’s almost as if she’s sleeping
Without any more air
Squelch! He slides the knife out again
And wipes it on his knee
The metal glitters in moonlight
And fills him with such glee.
Finished and clean he looks around,
Admiring his work,
And pulls back on his solid mask
As his mouth starts to quirk.
The ground here is soft and supple
So it moves without haste
As he begins to dig a grave
With a slow, steady pace
As the moon leaves the giant sky
The woman rolls around
Her body tumbles peacefully
Now six feet underground
The pumpkins glow around the street
Whispering words of dread.
Where will his journey take him now?
For now, no one will know.