All Hallows’ Eve



Mist shifting through trees, and lampposts, and structures

paints grey over vibrant colour and caustic visage, making

ghouls and ghosts of the savage reality of modern life.

Out of the swirling eddies creep modernity’s monsters;

their eyes blazing white fire, their mouths breathing heated

air into the coldness of an All Hallows’ Eve morning.

Up high from the East springs the last hero of our dark night.

A golden orb in the grey shadow lands of the sky burns

the air we breathe with a cleansing flame a million miles old.

The night yields to daylight and the ghosts of our fears retreat

back to the hollows and subterranean pools of darkness

we hold in our hearts as the sun warms our breasts

on the beach of our long good Monday, warming us

one last time before the onset of a bitter biting Winter.



Malek Montag,

Rochester, 2016


Follow me on Twitter @Malek_Montag15


Picture Credit:


About malekmontag

I am a writer and a wage-slave, and proud father of George Giraffe. I live in the UK, but I exist everywhere. My first stories were published this year (2016) in Short Stories and Tall Tales (Atla Publishing). Follow me on Twitter @Malek_Montag15. My Work is also available on
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