by Ray O'Bannon

In the darkened room
an old clock chimes softly
Pull the warm blankets closer
as you dream of flying

Dry leaves dance
in the silver moonlight
as the flickering candle
blows softly out

It is now that we come

Drifting silent as the shadows
Gliding swift across the sidewalk
till we swirl at last
'round this precious gift
that you have left for us

For you never realized
when you chopped the gourd
with glinting steel and laughter
and hollowed out its core

Never knew
what you were leaving
inside that glowing beacon
for us to find

And now we drink it in
The fear and the doubt
The pain and the grief
All those feelings
you so wanted to shed
placing them here
without ever knowing

This offering will sustain us
through the many nights ahead
and your soul may rest easy
for a time

but the seeds we leave
are the seeds of nightmare
and they're certain to grow

till once more it's time
to carve a pumpkin