Summer's Spell

 The sun departs, yet leaves its trace,   A heavy warmth, a stifling embrace.   In twilight’s grip, the shadows crawl,   Painting the night ...

 The sun departs, yet leaves its trace, 

 A heavy warmth, a stifling embrace. 

 In twilight’s grip, the shadows crawl, 

 Painting the night with a spectral thrall.

The moon ascends, both pale and sly, 

 Reflecting secrets from a watchful eye. 

 Crickets chirp their ceaseless tune, 

 A haunting hymn to the risen moon.

But heed the whispers soft and low, 

 Beneath the breeze where spirits go. 

 For in the heat, the night reveals, 

 The truths the daylight deftly conceals.

The darkness stretches, wide and deep, 

 Where restless souls and shadows creep. 

 And though the air is warm, alive, 

 It chills the heart to merely survive.

Embrace the night, but tread with care, 

 For secrets linger in the stagnant air. 

 Summer’s spell—a fleeting delight, 

 Laced with horrors beneath its light.