A Haunting Waltz
As I recline, wearied, on this eve so dark and dreary,
Whispers in the shadows, tales of Victorian eerie.
The moon, a spectral lantern, spills its ghastly glow on cobblestone streets,
Where specters of yore, in corsets and top hats, discreetly meet.
Beneath flickering gas lamps, secrets deftly concealed,
In murky alleys, truths unfold, a clandestine reveal.
Gloom, thick...
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