Stitches of the Soul (Halloween Night of the Dark Joy)

     “His creations of fabric were from a time long ago lost
With a lifetime of memories that demanded a terrible cost,
     “Some with wonderful pleasure-others blacker than the night
But to Jim Hallow his clothing were neither wrong nor right,

     “His best material are those stricken with suicidal grief
That he would propose a cure for their personal psychotic relief,
     “Those whom refused Jim Hallow he just left alone
But those who accepted would hear a continuous mechanical moan,

     “Every full moon the sound would slowly strengthen
Until becoming an unbearable headache that affected their everyday livin,
     “A psionic agonizing curse created that leads to Jim Hallow
In which to relieve the pain, to his home they blindly follow,

     “Once within his home, garments of all kind stretched without end
That would begin low hissing about the individual’s sin,
     “Mainly about unbearable failure, family and forbidden love
Unknowingly, to the victim the hissing is tasting their soul and polluted blood,

     “The further one travels the ghostly fabric increased more
Becoming fully entangled, then suddenly appearing at a rotten wooden door,
     “Desperation and struggle at that moment causes one to fight to get in
Into a sewing room full of silent screaming souls within laundry bins,

     “Jim Hallow does not see it as an intrusion, but more material to be worked
As thousands of needles from the darkness begin to insert,
     “The needles bypass the flesh causing a shiver of painful cold
Connecting to Jim Hallow’s desired source-that is the soul,

     “Their essence one by one begins fading away with each prick
Causing those who truly love them to become mysteriously sick,
     “For twenty-four hours any type of fabric is unable to be sold
And materials of poor-quality start to corrode,

     “The more the soul needles chain stitches the more flesh begin to dissolve
Until becoming a transparent white gray-stained fog,
     “And within the fog turning into soul fabric is a face in anguish
That reality itself will not miss”.