Beneath the Moon

In midnight’s shroud, where shadows creep,

A whispered breath, a secret keeps.

The hollow moon, an eye of dread,

Watches where the restless tread.

--

Through twisted woods, where nightmares dwell,

In silence thick as darkened well,

A figure waits with sharpened teeth,

Feasting on the pulse of breath beneath.

--

The trees bend low with wicked mirth,

Their branches reach, a grasping birth;

Echoes carry, a distant scream,

A haunting thread that frays the seam.

--

Crimson eyes glare in the night,

A heart that beats—a savage light,

It knows your name, it knows your sin,

It waits for dusk to pull you in.

The ground, a soft and hungry maw,

Each step you take, a silent law;

It drags you down, it grips your soul,

Where light is lost, shadows roll.

--

A laugh erupts—a cruel delight,

As fingers scratch and scratch at night;

Darkness wraps its heavy shroud,

In this abyss, there is no sound.

--

So heed the tales of those before,

Who wandered lost and found the door,

To realms where horrors brew and steep,

And nothing pure is left to keep.

--

For in this realm of dread and fright,

Where echoes linger past the light,

The hollow moon will ever glow,

On haunted hearts and fears that grow.

--

So close your eyes and hold them tight,

For what may come to claim the night,

Is lurking, waiting, ever near,

Beneath the moon—your deepest fear.