In the mist of the night,
The cold whispers his song.
It gives you goosebumps,
As you walk along.
A straight narrow footpath,
Bats flying through the air,
An icy chill,
A cold hard stare.
Figures passing by,
Shadows of the trees.
Woodland animals scurrying,
They’re all awake you see.
Lampposts flickering,
Stars shining.
Headlights are a glow,
Leaves falling.
Mornings calling,
Time to go home.