Pale moonlight shining on the mist.
May well convince you ghosts exist.
The apparitions that you see.
You can ascribe to fantasy
You can’t be sure that don’t exist
Those spectral figures in the mist.
The silver moonlight can deceive
your eyes and incline you to believe.
Until you’re taken by surprise
when all at once you recognise.
A face familiar to you
Maybe the moonlights fooling you.
But then again ghosts may be real
and look to you in mute appeal
For help that you cannot supply
