The midnight hour strikes, a flute starts to play
The trees turn quiet, the clouds become gray
The phantom has appeared, to soothe the animals of the forest
They were acting strange, only he puts them to rest
He goes at dawn, comes at twilight
He plays his flute, throughout the night
You try to find him in the morning, and he is not there
He seems to have disappeared into the air
-Gaurang Rao
Written for - http://magpietales.blogspot.com/
