The gloomy hour

Beneath the shadowy veil of the night, where the sky embraces the moon and stars, and severe the ties that once confined the sun. The crickets unleash their male (chirping sound) in the air as the tree feels the coldness of the breeze to its trunk.

They resides in silence, the habitants of nature, where the wildlife lies and await the dawn. The mortal being dwell silently in their shelter and begins to lurk in the imaginary realm

Oh!! What a peacemaker you are, the hours of the witches