The darkness poem

The darkness has come,
and the stars are shining bright,
as the mist hangs above the ground,
and the time,
it nears midnight and so,
it is an eerie sight,
an unearthly delight,
as we walk through the fields,
with a torch in hand trying to find the way,
and oh, how haunting it is,
looking for ghosts,
upon a summer’s eve,
and how creepy it is,
but it gives you a chill,
and a thrill that does oddly please,
and how the stars sparkle,
and do shine down upon you,
but how will we see ghosts,
if the mist hangs there so hauntingly,
and anyway,
where do ghosts go at midnight,
I do not know,
but if one jumps out at me,
we shall see,
and maybe I will ask it,
what it is having,
for a midnight feast,
as we walk through the cemetery.

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