A Graveyard Holds My Secret

Silver stones of moonlight, glittering in the night,

Hidden soon by fog, not touched by lonely light.

A place where evil stalks, and mourners ever weep,

Where stories have evolved, and dead mortals still do sleep.
--

But come daylight you won’t hear, a lonely mournful wail,

A spirit ever keening, a song that does not fail.

It is night that holds this secret, of creatures in the dark,

And it’s here that darkness lurks, a ragged dirty mark.
--

Eerily they groan, and whisper words of hate,

Those goblins of the night, those discrepancies of fate.

But curious you still wander, into that haunted place,

And one day you surrender, to a lonely red eyed face.
--

His eyes so mesmerizing, his pointy teeth so pale,

And in the graveyards spell, his purpose cannot fail,

And so you die that night, under a misty mantle,

Dreaming still of gravestones, and an ever-burning candle.
--

The next week sees a change, another silver stone,

It glitters in the night, a testament in night alone.

And then there is a noise, of silent mortal feet,

And you scream into the darkness, howling to retreat.
--

But they only hear a wail, a spirit ever keening,

Singing every night, or so to them its seeming,

This place holds now your secret, your death and your demise,

And soon that man will come, with those deadly blood red eyes.