The Headless Host upon a Horse

He rests in an old abandoned graveyard but

Every Halloween he rises.

At the strike of midnight, his

Dozens of bats appear

Like an entourage.

Everyone in town knows not to leave their house.

Some warn the travellers,

Some do not.


He rides on a decaying horse

On dirty cobblestone roads.

Remember to be aware, that

Should he get too close, he will take your head.

Masquerading as a man,

And as hard to run from as 

Nothing seen before.


This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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