Ethereal Waltz

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In moonlit halls, the ghosts convene,
With whispers soft and eyes unseen.
They glide on air, in spectral dance,
A silent waltz of fateful chance.

Their laughter weaves a mournful tune,
A melody beneath the moon.
In gowns of mist, they softly sway,
A fleeting dream till break of day.

Ethereal in their midnight trance,
They hold the night in ghostly dance.
In shadowed halls, their secrets keep,
And with the dawn, they drift to sleep.

An air of melancholy clings to their every step, as if joy and sorrow entwine in their spectral embrace. Their presence feels both tender and tragic, a reflection of beauty lost to time. Watching them, one feels the bittersweet ache of yearning for the untouchable, a haunting longing that lingers even as they fade.

-Dark Duchess

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