The wind whispers secrets through skeletal trees,
As we walk in the haunted rain, down lonely knees
Of cracked pavement. Each drop a whispered plea
From restless spirits, unseen eternally.

Headstones like teeth jut from the sodden ground,
Moss-covered whispers, a mournful, chilling sound.
Lightning cracks a sky, a fleeting, ghastly grin,
Reflecting in puddles where phantoms dance within.

Our footsteps echo, a hollow, rhythmic beat,
Accompanied by whispers, both mournful and sweet.
Is it just the rain, or a sigh on the breeze?
We walk in the haunted rain, hearts ill at ease.