In shadows deep and twilights haze, A ghostly chill begins to raise. The midnight air, so crisp and cold, Whispers secrets, dark and old. Leaves swirl round with eerie grace, Like phantom dancers lost in space. The moon, a sickle sharp and thin, Lights the mischief soon to spin. Footsteps echo on empty streets, A hollow sound as silence meets. Eyes peer out from tree and stone, Watching, waiting—never known. Owls hoot low, the wolves reply, Stars blink down from the haunted sky. And in the dark, a soft voice sighs, "Beware the night, where terror lies."
