"The tip of the pine is a haunted tower
Where witches wait some magic hour;
The moon in the mist leaves a ghostly trail,
And the hoot of the owl is a banshee wail."


Now playing: "Belthasar" (gothic tune, author unknown)

In medieval times belief in spirits, ghosts, and witchcraft was a common mindset. There were the whispered tales among the local townspeople of the old woman who lived in the woods who knew of things others did not, of the dense forest just outside of town where the ghost of a long-dead warrior was said to haunt the trails, and the mountain range in the distance which was rumored to be home to a band of demons. People even believed that there was one night in the year when the dead could walk amongst the living, and would dress up in costume in order to frighten these wandering spirits away. This, of course, began one of the many traditions of All Hollow's Eve, and is still in practice today.

In these modern times it would seem that the mystery of Halloween, and the belief in ghosts and monsters in general, seems to have vanished. As we grow from children filled with imagination to adults who live by logic, our fear of things that go bump in the night tends to wane as the real sources behind our childhood terrors are revealed -- the monster under the bed becomes the elusive house cat, the boogeyman in the closet becomes a wayward hanger, and the ghost on the staircase is only the natural creaks of the house. But is everything that we experience so easily explained, or is it that we try so hard to find an explanation because the alternative is unthinkable?

Even now legends and stories abound by the thousands of places where dwell restless spirits and mysterious forces. Who hasn't heard of the vanishing hitchhiker on some remote country road, the house on the hill which has been long deserted but within it there still seems to be signs of life, or the old graveyard down the street where ethereal forms still walk the night? Ghosts, goblins, witches, vampires -- whether the logical mind wants to accept it or not, they still exist in one form or another. So the next time you find yourself alone in the house, with the wind moaning and the stairs creaking, ask yourself if you're brave enough to prove that there are no such things as ghosts. Perhaps you should sleep with the lights on . . .

Evil things, in robes of sorrow,
Assailed the monarch's high estate.
(Ah, let us mourn! for never morrow
Shall dawn upon him desolate!)
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.

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