Witching Hour

In the still of midnight’s breath, When the world’s asleep in death, Shadows dance with silent grace, In the moon’s pale, haunted face. Candles flicker, whispers grow, Through the mist, the secrets flow, Witches’ laughter fills the air, As the night’s enchantments flare. Waltz into the witching hour, Feel the magic, taste the power, Spin beneath the starlit sky, As the spirits softly sigh. Fog rolls thick beneath the trees, A realm unseen by waking eyes, Where phantoms shift with haunted grace, And moonlit figures gently rise. Waltz into the witching hour, Feel the magic, taste the power, Spin beneath the starlit sky, As the spirits softly sigh. Lanterns glow, Paths unseen, Witches move with growing might, Each step fuels their ancient spell, Till the dawn dispels their rite. Waltz into the witching hour, Feel the magic, taste the power, Spin beneath the starlit sky, As the spirits softly sigh. When the dawn begins to creep, And the world stirs from its sleep, Know this spell will never break, For the night is ours to take.