Lady Victoria Eclectic Pagan's blog: "Samhain"

On Samhain’s Eve in the healers hall, Alone in the wounded, lonely dark, Will you feel your flesh beneath your skin And touch fear in your murmuring heart? With the leaves dying fast upon the limb, The slashing rain’s a mourning cloak The old healer’s arts may bring you joy. His reasoned, cultured hands may choke. Will you curl against the window’s bars Which mock the freeness of your breath? Will you hear the rain’s doubts on the glass And heed the winds that whisper "death"? Cut off from all that you know and love, Will you walk with your reasoned tread? Or will you yet heed your tingling neck And own the fear of nameless dread? The Witching hour approaches near – Awaiting, waiting – nothing breathes. The spell is wrought – the path is set For good or ill on Samhain’s Eve.