At the edge of the fallen night,
Silent grew deep, drowned in twilight.
He casted his lines, barefoot and tall,
Startled by the gloom of the river's call.
Ripples whispered an eerie breath,
He tugged a thread that summoned death.
Amid a silver smoke she walked free,
A ghostly bride from the ancient plea.
With webbed hands and hollow eyes,
She lured the boy with lullaby lies.
Her touch was cold, her gaze a snare—
Vanishing whole in the midnight air.