Whispers of the haunting hours

In shadows deep, where whispers creep,

A haunting tale begins to seep.

Moonlight wanes, a ghostly trance,

As specters dance in macabre advance.

Silent screams in the dead of night,

Echo through the pale moonlight.

Ghouls emerge from the crypt's embrace,

A chilling symphony in spectral grace.

Creaking floorboards, a spectral tread,

Footsteps echo from the realm of the dead.

Ethereal figures, draped in despair,

Wander the halls with a ghostly stare.

Beware the shadows that writhe and writ,

A malevolent force, a nocturnal fit.

Darkness devours, the cold winds moan,

As the haunted whispers claim their own.

The clock ticks on in a timeless dirge,

Through corridors of a ghostly surge.

In the heart of fear, where nightmares breed,

A haunting presence takes its heed.

Close your eyes, but don't dare sleep,

For in the night, the shadows weep.

A tapestry of terror, woven unseen,

In the haunting hours, where nightmares convene.