While the beauty within her monstrous face shone from her hollow interiors,

only she will remember the carving, gouging, and scooping out of orange flesh.

 A set of sharp tools to declare her as no longer a fruit, but a lifeful piece of art;

But what is art if designing to create meant destruction and being torn apart?

Tender hands that spent hours perfecting her big eyes, sharp nose, and elongated smile,

unmercifully leave her out in the sunlit days and freezing nights to rot by herself.

Melancholic; when she stands facing death, but her lantern lights up the neighborhood.

Therefore exists a legacy, for she who did the things that nobody else ever could.

 “A sacrifice of herself to scare away even the scariest things” 

to terrify ghouls in the name of what human joy it brings.

So tell me, what is more sinister?

The haunting ghosts and spirits from the other world?

The torn-apart face rotting in the entrance of the house?

Or is it in the process and ability of creating such horror?