Once upon a midnight, ghostly, Partied many, dead ones mostly. Feasting in the graveyard, sprightly, Black fanged werewolves gorged, engrossedly*. In the boneyard, drab and squalid Apparitions, staring stolid (Neath the veiled moon, clouded lightly) Sought fresh bodies, lean but solid. Demons' eyes shone, light and sparkly, Ghouls and devils danced, so darkly. Worms were grubbing, gruel unsightly, Black blood streamed like ink, quite starkly. Fiendish flesh was flowing freely Through the crypt doors, cold and steely. Shadows, ashen, pranced contritely, Ebon serpents slithered eely. As it happens, all too often, Zombies dimly closed the coffin - Ra, the sun, was rising slightly Hunger pangs were soon to soften. If you ask, I'll tell you blankly, When you're feeling dark and dankly, Come to where this happens nightly. They'll enjoy the feast, quite frankly...