Midnight Ghost

In the domain of shadows and muffled light,

Where the moon reigns in the velvet evening,

A ghost mixes, a murmuring phantom,

Moving through the 12 PM's breath.

Twelve o'clock rolls in, the world snoozing,

As the 12 PM apparition starts to crawl.

Quiet strides on the cobblestone,

Imperceptible, yet never alone.

An outline against the pale moonbeam,

A frightful figure, an otherworldly dream.

Shrouded in dimness, a cover of fog,

The 12 PM apparition can't be excused.

Through the rear entryways and calm roads,

The apparition floats on ethereal feet.

A watchman of privileged insights untold,

In the quietness, its story unfurls.

12 PM rings, a despairing tune,

An orchestra played by the silver moon.

The apparition winds through the city's heart,

A spooky work of otherworldly craftsmanship.

Eyes aglow with a ghastly sparkle,

Mirroring the 12 PM's subtle dream.

A watchman of the inconspicuous domains,

Where time and reality overpower.

The reverberations of chuckling, the murmurs of fears,

Are moved by the spooky soothsayers.

Ridiculously late, it tracks down its place,

An otherworldly watchman of reality.

Through the recreation area where shadows play,

The 12 PM phantom proceeds with its expressive dance.

Hitting the dance floor with the breezes, a three step dance of air,

Abandoning a path of ghastly style.

Past the antiquated, ivy-clad walls,

Where history's insider facts unobtrusively captivate.

The phantom floats by, a quiet breeze,

Disentangling stories effortlessly.

Twilight gardens and neglected graves,

The 12 PM apparition nimbly acts.

It murmurs to the resting blossoms,

Unwinding stories of 12 PM hours.

An orchestra of reverberations in the quietude,

As the apparition tracks where shadows brood.

In the quietness of the night significant,

Its unearthly presence can be found.

Through the veins of the old city,

The phantom moves with quiet pity.

A guardian of recollections, a sentinel of time,

In the consecrated hours of the spooky prime.

Yet, as the principal light begins to day break,

The 12 PM phantom starts to generate.

Disappearing with the morning dew,

Its phantom structure says goodbye to the evening.

The city wakes, the world astir,

Ignorant about the spooky guest.

The 12 PM hour has given its opinion,

As the phantom retreats, disappearing.

However, in the hearts of the people who accept,

The 12 PM apparition won't ever leave.

A waiting presence in the waking day,

A ghost memory that won't ever influence.

In this way, as the moon continues its disappear,

Also, the world stirs from the phantom rule,

The 12 PM phantom, a shadow's host,

Will return when the night is most.