Halloween Sonnet by Murisopsis #SonnetSunday

Chill winds, dead leaves, as they dress up pretend
Children running, they scamper door to door
Without a thought of how their lives will end
Making merry, laughter the dead abhor

The veil is thinning between us and them
Sweet treats, full moon will call the dead to rise
Every child who mocks them hears death’s grim hymn
Played out in pantomime before their eyes

Evaporating souls like steam or fog
Fill the sky and seep past masks into mouth
Into throat, becomes the croak of bullfrog
Hoarse, they cry and turn to flee to the south

Into the chasm humanity falls
Compass points are pointless when the grave calls

Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay

A sobering sonnet for Halloween Sonnet Sunday

Murisopsis, of A Different Perspective, has created a thought-provoking sonnet for these pandemic times. The idea of a miasmic fog seeping ‘past masks into mouth’ is chilling. A clever and original take on this Halloween prompt, especially the final lines, which remind us of the abyss at the edge of which we stand:

And with this, Sonnet Sunday draws to a close, after a marathon 13 sonnets! I would like to say a huge thank you to everyone who has taken part and made this event possible. I think it has been a runaway success…

Advance notice: the next seasonal Sonnet Sunday will take place on 20 December, on the theme of the midwinter festival (or local festival) of your choice. I will provide more details nearer the time. For now, I wish you a pleasant All Saints’ Day, having effectively driven the demons away with our poetry!