Beneath the Hollow Moon

Shadows coil where silence weeps,

 In corridors of a haunted keep.

 A candle flickers, pale and thin,

 Whispering secrets of forgotten sins.

The air is heavy, thick with night,

 Graves exhales a silver light.

 Each breath a ghost, each step a prayer,

 To saints long gone, to none who care.

The roses bleed in marble hands,

 Their thorns like crowns in cursed lands.

 A raven calls from iron skies,

 Bearing the weight of unlived lies.

And still, I walk where echoes bloom,

 Between the tombstones’ endless gloom.

 For in the dark, I find my place—

 A fragile soul, with a nameless face.