In the quiet hours when shadows creep,  

The world drifts softly into sleep,  

Yet in the corners where nightmares dwell,  

A tale unfolds, a haunting spell.  


Whispers echo in the darkened night,  

Figures dance just out of sight,  

A twisted path, a fading light,  

Where fears take flight, and hope takes flight.  


The walls close in, the air grows thick,  

A clock ticks slow, each second a trick,  

Faces familiar, yet strange and grim,  

In the theater of dreams, the lights grow dim.  


A chase through forests, where shadows loom,  

With every heartbeat, a sense of doom,  

The ground gives way, the sky turns red,  

In the realm of slumber, the lost are led.  


A voice calls out, but it’s not quite clear,  

A melody laced with doubt and fear,  

The monsters rise from the depths of the mind,  

In the labyrinth of sleep, no solace to find.  


Yet as dawn breaks, the nightmares fade,  

The sun spills gold on the dreams we’ve made,  

With each new day, the shadows retreat,  

And the heart finds peace in the light’s warm seat.  


So when the night brings its chilling schemes,  

Remember, dear soul, they’re just fleeting dreams,  

For in the waking world, hope reigns supreme,  

And the heart can mend what the night may deem.