In the still of night, where shadows creep,
Lies a secret that the darkness keeps.
A whispering wind, a chilling breath,
Speaks of silence, speaks of death.
A figure looms, so void and stark,
A ghostly presence in the dark.
Its hollow eyes, an endless gaze,
Lost in time's eternal maze.
The clock ticks on, but time stands still,
A haunting void that none can fill.
Beneath the moon's pale, ghostly light,
Lurks the terror of the night.
So tread softly, speak not a word,
Lest the whispers of the void be heard.
For in the shadows, you may find,
The eerie remnants of a mind.