In spells upon the air of midnight, spirits fill the breeze. The atmosphere is woken and is felt with all unease. A frightful tension wills submission owing to attempt, in verse of line to then define the treason that is meant. Upon the shapely moonlit circle high above conceit, the logic in the haunting questions bind to our relief. Upon an answer within time, on hands upon the flame, the wick is candid to announce the light from where it came. In shadows crept before their visions light was to be cast, the entities behind decisions wane within the past. Upon the transit of the moonlight high above escape the stars that circle common sense will give as they relate.