Beneath the moon, a tale unfolds,
Of Vikram the king, so brave and bold.
Through forests dark, he walked each night,
To fetch Betaal, a ghost of fright.
On his shoulder, the corpse would ride,
With riddles and stories, it would bide.
“Answer me true,” Betaal would say,
«Or back to the tree, I’ll fly away!»
Stories of wisdom and morals so deep,
Of kings and queens, their vows to keep.
Each twist and turn, a lesson to learn,
In Betaal’s tales, the truth would burn.
From justice fair to choices grim,
Each tale revealed life’s hidden hymn.
Through wit and courage, Vikram would strive,
In these eerie tales, wisdom thrived.
