In the quiet hours when the moonlight fades,
Whispers of shadows dance with the breeze,
Demons awaken from their secret glades,
In the silence where time seems to freeze.

Their eyes, like embers, flicker in the dark,
Carrying tales of forgotten despair,
Through the misty woods, they leave their mark,
In the stillness of the midnight air.

Yet within their chaos, a strange allure,
A song of longing in their haunting cries,
Echoes of stories they silently endure,
In the depths where their true nature lies.

But as dawn breaks and the sun ascends,
These phantoms retreat to their hidden lair,
Leaving behind the night that bends,
In the light, only shadows remain there.