The Remains

Beneath the moonlit night
on bare branches sat a
crooked owl hooting in the
air, in the distance witches
wail around their pot casting
their spells, the black crows
caw screeched in the ears of
the helpless, looking with fear
into torches the flames flashed,
falling to the dusty ground
in embers than fading on the
earth becoming ash , soon blown
away by ghostly breath,
passing by the cracked, moss
covered tombstones enticing the
skeletal remains of death