Whispers in the Night

Gothic poem.

Beneath the moon's spectral gleam
Through the shadowed, twisted trees
I wander, lost in a dream.
My heart beating in the breeze.

The leaves rustle beneath my feet
As I pass by ancient graves.
Markers of forgotten elite
Whose secrets they keep locked and saved.

I feel the pull of the dark
The allure of the unknown
The whisper of a song, stark
Echoing through the mist, alone.

There is beauty in the night
In the secrets it can hold
A darkness that is not quite right
But my heart it does enfold.

For I am drawn to the gothic
The macabre and the mystic.
The darkness that is so romantic
That I cannot help but visit.

So I walk through the graveyard
And let the darkness in
For in this eerie eerie place
I find my solace and my kin.