Bony Fingers

Bony fingers, thin and white, Scratching at the moonlit night. Shadows dance, a twisted play, Where whispers haunt and secrets sway. The wind sighs low, a chilling moan, As cobwebs cling, and leaves are blown. A hollow laugh, a rasping sound, From where the dark and shadows bound. A chilling touch, a ghostly grip, On trembling hearts, a fear to slip. Bony fingers, cold and stark, A chilling omen, leaving their mark. Through misty veils and swirling haze, They reach for souls in a macabre maze. The night descends, a haunting scene, Where bony fingers, dark and keen, Will claim their due, come Halloween.