Where the Shadows Go to Dance

Come through the gate when the daylight fades,
Where the moonlight flickers through crooked shades.
The sidewalks shine from an evening rain,
While red and gold leaves dance down the lane.

A cold wind whispers through branches bare,
Then suddenly stops, as if someone’s there.
A porch light trembles beside an old door,
And something is watching from somewhere next door.

The town grows quiet. The streetlamps glow.
A distant church bell tolls soft and low.
Then somewhere beyond the wooded hill,
A lone wolf cries, and the night stands still.

Follow the path where the shadows bend,
Past the rusted gate where the road seems to end.
The trees lean close as you wander through,
Their silver branches reaching for you.

Ahead, in the darkness, a bonfire burns,
While sparks rise upward and twist as it turns.
Masked figures gather, then disappear,
Their laughter drifting strangely near.

Don't ask who they are. Don't ask why they came.
Some nights are better without a name.
Just keep on walking beneath the moon,
For dawn will arrive, but perhaps too soon.

And when you look back from the edge of the wood,
The gate has vanished where once it stood.

You came looking for somewhere to roam,
But somehow along the way,
the night brought me home.