The Dance of the Dead
Upon the cold stone I sit
A shaded graveyard, not even light can split
Wandering, I walk across this ghostly land
The fog and rain command
Slowly the light begins to die,
The night awaking to the lone wolf’s cry
Hidden figures dance under the moon
But the fun ends all too soon
A lonely girl weeps by a stream
The life she once had is all but a dream
Her mangled, twisted frame lies beside her
The crying waters murmur and stir…
Us corpses gather ‘round, mourn the newcomer
Her hair more golden than wheat in summer
Fade to the color of dull clay
She turns a transparent grey
We invite her over, to dance and sing
Before the sun exposes her unfurled wings
Her muffled screams are caught in between
The death and reality seam
Again I sit upon my rock and ponder
‘Who shall see our dance’ I wonder
Our special dance under the moon that lead
To the dance now known as ‘The dance of the Dead’
Copyright © Rebecca Larkin | Year Posted 2012
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