As soon as the dusk falls,
Creatures of night start to crawl.
Wind blow at a great speed.
And the last meal of the day feed.
Lights go low and dimmer,
Sound of chirping go simmer.
Dry leave fly with the wind,
Like a spell from enchanter’s mind.
Lady in hood comes out,
She’s old in age but stout.
She looks here and there,
And vanishes like a nightmare.
The lady is never seen in day light,
People call her “the ghost of the night”.
Her black shawl hangs from the branch of tree,
So many think she’s the spirit set free.
As the dusk fall people lock their homes,
They are scared of the witch and catacombs.
No one dares to peep out of house,
All keep inside like a mouse.
The lady walks through the streets,
Stops to dine somewhere but then retreats.
As the first sun ray comes in town,
It leaves behind all the black and brown.
People wake up and rejoice once again,
They set to works with no loss and gains.
Starts a new day with all might,
And forget about the “ghost of night”.