That disturbia of darkness 😱

Thats when wizen old witches point long boney fingers

They prowl thru wild woodlands like melancholy mingers

Screeching their sombreness, such dreadful singers..

So woe betide you betwixt those wee small hours

Cauldrons of concoctions with magical powers

Will wither ones wisdom like wilted flowers

And haunt your happenstance for hours and hours..

Clandestine copses within hidden holes

Are but merely monsters that suck your souls

Whilst feeding yon nighttime nocturnal voles