pallid face lit by flickering candlelight,

soul shrouded in shadows, wrapped in memories and gauze;

midnight approaching, your samhain ritual begins.

tears graze the mask you have chosen to wear,

and softly you weep, his name burning in your heart.

silently you walk along a dark and familiar path;

one strewn with withered leaves and broken seeds,

unanswered prayers and last year's flowers,

stirred by his voice, a lonely breeze.

through avenues of moonlight you wander

to kneel before a mossy stone,

running your cold fingers over a worn inscription.

the stars above wheel slowly in their dreams,

and aching you lie down on a bed of dry november grass,

your arms outstretched, your eyes closed;

awaiting his ethereal embrace, his sweet, ghostly kiss.