109. Halloween’s got soul. Part 2. (27/10/2015).

Halloween gathers pace as Freddy, Drac’ and Frank look to being reacqainted.


109. Halloween’s got soul. Part 2. (27/10/2015).


Drac’ knew about Frank,

And how he lacked the dark,

But he liked the light in Frank,

Because it meant he could turn his back,

Assured that unlike the other mistakes,

The freaks and ghosts and ghouls and beasts,

He could feel secure with him at least,

Without being had for dinner by a stake,


But, what made Drac’ cast his gaze,

Here at home and there abroad,

Was the freak with hideously tattered cheeks,

And the one gloved and taloned claw,

And Drac’ would, if only he could,

Tear the very last scream,

From this demon of the dreams,

But it would mean facing him on his terms,


For all Drac’s aristocratic bearing,

The sophistication of his taste,

He was still the taker of life,

With fangs made only for piercing,

And he knew if he was to take Freddy,

It couldn’t be done in haste,

Though there would be a need for speed,

And Frank stood steadfast behind him,


Frank usually kept his own counsel,

He never spoke much at all,

And things told to him stayed close,

Like bricking them up behind the wall,

But one there was he could keep nothing from,

Who’d be the weak link in Drac’s scheme,

Frank could keep nothing from himself,

Especially when he slept, and when he’d dream.


© Jim Laing 2015.

About Jim Laing

The Buddha said there were four kinds of people. Those who run from dark to dark, those who run from light to dark, those who run from dark to light and those who run from light to light. From a life going from dark to dark to having a few years running from dark to light, with scuffed hands and knees from sometimes falling, I may be getting the hang of it now. How it began is not now how it is, I need a quiet space, After the noise of the day, So I take sanctuary in the creativity, And my soul feeds, On sometimes dark, Sometimes light fantasy, And I dare like many to work, But stay up off my knees, To dream, perchance to suffer, But always still to dream. Here are things mostly lyrical and poetic, with nonsense sometimes, reviews and personal musings. The coffees hot and always black. The words not necessarily so.
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