I walked through the forest one day,
And I found the strangest thing,
Hanging by a single vine,
From the branches of a broad boughed tree,
Was an odd little white mask,
Hollow eyes were opened wide,
The mouth a terrified “O”,
With cut out ears,
And a triangle nose,
It hung so strangely alone,
With each whistling breeze,
It rocked so creepily,
Dancing to a ghostly tune,
Making it feel like midnight not noon,
They say twilight is the witching hour,
But that mask would make you believe,
That magic was in its very weave,
And I wonder what that mask would whisper,
If the thing could talk,
And what horrors on my poor soul,
That frightening thing would depart.