In the stillness of the night,
Murmurs stir in spectral light.
Moonlight weaves through shadowed trees,
Casting phantoms in the breeze.
A faint sound, barely heard,
Echo is like a ghostly word.
Fog creeps low upon the ground,
Silent secrets, none profound.
Graves stand guard in solemn rows,
Beneath them, tales of sorrow flow.
Marble cold and weathered grey,
Hides the regrets of yesterday.
Raven’s caw, a haunting cry,
Pierces through the midnight sky.
Wings as dark as most bottomless voids,
On cursed winds, the air devoid.
In the forest, shadows play,
Dancing where the moonbeams stray.
Eyes that gleam with hidden spite,
Glimmer in the pitch of the night.
An old house, a forgotten place,
Windows stares with a hollow face.
Doors that creak in mournful sighs,
Shelter memories that won’t die.
Candles flicker in the gloom,
Fighting darkness that they loom.
Ancient clocks tick slowly and fast,
Counting down to moments past.
The mirror’s surface, cold and clear,
Reflects not the living here.
Figures move when none are near,
Silent screams you cannot hear.
Steps that lead to nowhere known,
Winding paths of moss and stone.
Ghostly forms that roam and rove,
Searching for what they once called home.
In the distance, bells toll low,
Marking time where none can go.
Each chime a whisper, soft and thin,
Inviting all the shadows in.
And as the night claims all in sight,
Darkness reigns with quiet might.
In this realm where fear holds sway,
Eternity and night will stay.
So heed the warnings, keep them near,
For the night holds more than fear.
In the depths where shadows blend,
Lies are a place where dreams descend.
Esther Elizabeth Racah
