In the heart of the midnight forest, shadows whisper tales,
Of secrets buried deep within, where no daylight prevails.
The moonlight dances softly, casting a spectral glow,
On paths that twist and turn, where hidden mysteries flow.

The ancient trees stand silent, guardians of the night,
Their branches weave a tapestry, of eerie, ghostly light.
Whispers drift like autumn leaves, through the cool, crisp air,
Carrying forgotten stories, of those who wandered there.

An owl’s call breaks the silence, a haunting, mournful sound,
Echoing through the darkness, where lost souls are found.
The forest holds its secrets, in shadows deep and cold,
A riddle wrapped in twilight, a mystery to unfold.

As dawn approaches slowly, and shadows start to fade,
The forest keeps its secrets, in the quiet, misty glade.
For those who seek the answers, in the light of day,
The midnight forest whispers, in its own, enigmatic way.