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...
Continue reading...