NIGHT

Wow what a first line. I almost didn't want to go past that but hey I'm glad I did. 
Why do we always associate secrets being whispered to the moon because I assume that is the she to whom you are referring. I like the return to mantle in a later line. And cradle to the weary souls is a lovely end to your poem. This is poetry the like of which I could never write. 

A little gem & very muchly enjoyed, hence each of the accolades I have subsequently assigned .. Neville 

This is a lovely write Bernadete ...I find it kind of calming and even luxurious and rich....because the night and all her trinkets is exactly that...for me anyway, and this you have conveyed so well in your words...hugs x

Layers of meaning. Nice work.

Wow .....stay 

One night I was driving home. I looked up to the full moon and ever so briefly, caught a glimpse of a girls face, pale as the moon, hair as black as deaths curtains, eyes confused as to her current wearabouts.

At this time of my life I was over my head in deep meditations, i was also performing soul rescuing,  helping to guide the lost to the light, my eyes were open, a little too much.

when i got home i decided to light a candle and search the gloom for her lost soul.

Roth iron gates, a darkness hung over an old house,  red door, creaking floor boards.

I found myself inside, there sat a man asleep surrounded by the dying light of an open fire, a shot of wiskey sat in a tilted glass, barely Clasped within his unconscious fist, his bloody fist.

I moved around the room, grey walls, oak floors, warped from his lack of care. My eyes met the crumpled girl as she lay in twisted fashion, covered only by her nightdress.

And now she appeared, her ghost, standing over her kadaver, wispering words

Get up
Please get up
Daddy will be mad
Please get up

Tears ran down her fearful face

She left the room in confusion and panic, I followed her up the stairs, into her bedroom were she sat In misery, crying,  crying for her mother.

Suddenly a noise from downstairs, we crept together,  I as her, she as me.

Her father stood in the hallway, a frail corpse draped over his heavy arms

all i could her was her voice

Daddy, please bring me to bed, I want to sleep, im tired, let me sleep in your bed, next to mammys photo, 

Her father carried her out the front door into the night, exiting to his left, into the icy fog.

Where are you taking me daddy, I want to go to bed

I could hear the shovel lifting the cold dirt, we couldnt see her face anymore,  the earth clumped upon her eyes.

She ran, ran back into the house, back to her bedroom, but something was different,
a Glow shone from her room, a peaceful mist surrounded a blue And green ball suspended in mid air.

i could see her, she stood next to it and wisped away the mist revealing the earth, she put her face into it and peered down to see me, driving in my car, I looked up.

under cover of darkness with eyes wide shut, the whirring of the fan seems to emit a singing voice analogous to angels communicating some message drawing my curiosity wishing me to be willingly abducted by heavenly entities and whisked away to an idyllic place.