The giant of a thousand fear;

The origin of the witching hours;

The hope of the dark hunters;

Yet, grows daily screaming for help.

The crickets were still chirping,

The toads were still croaking;

The breeze was still hallowing sweet tunes,

And man was still snoring out excessive pain,

Hoping for relieved moment in the morrow.

Time ticked faster in fear;

The horns of moonlight lovers kept on ringing;

Footsteps at the backyard taped melodious beats;

Window of the dedicated squeaked in honour;

Neighbours screamed for concern;

‘Thief! Thief!! Thief!!!’

The cry of the guilty followed;

‘Have mercy, it’s the devil!’