The Demons

The moon and stars were cloaked in cloud,
An eerie wind did moan.
T'was the kind of night
That gripped you tight
And chilled you to the bone.

A lonesome traveller made his way,
Beneath the darkened skies.
He sensed danger near
And stopped in fear
At the sight that met his eyes.

A band of beasties, four foot tall
Had swiftly blocked his way;
Gruesome creatures
With hideous features
And skins of murky grey.

"What could they want?" he wondered,
Dread clutched him like a vice.
His heart did quake
And his knees did shake,
His blood felt as cold as ice.

But suddenly their leader spoke
Through a horrible, evil grin.
"Spare us a sweet,
'Cos it's Trick or Treat,
Or we'll smash yer windscreen in!"