I was wandering down the coppice
Desolated in the bewitching hour
Abruptly I gazed upon an alchemist light
Descending from a cubbyhole.
I wondered if that was a spectre,
Wandering upon the dead of night,
So I blotted out
Under a haunted backwood
But I thought,
I might have erred
Maybe someone was playing with me.
Maybe I was bewitched
I drank courage,
To the lees
Who’s there? I shouted
But not a single word issued
So I tried to be gallant,
And marched towards it.
But the light started to diminish,
And vanished, nowhere
I left the grass with a question mark,
While the rays of cryptic light
remains a myth
remains a myth
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