Victim's Retribution

A butterfly's steady and respectful dance draws the eye, The unnaturally slow beating of it's wings against the air, Thick and heavy with stale and decaying ashes, Air that would dry and choke the softest of lips, The setting of the funeral shroud-black insect on a grave A weathered and torn stone is it's mourning ground, Aged and dominated by a sinister glowering skull, Tall white angels of wax burn silently and sternly, Standing around the stone, creating a softly glowing frame, Breaking the darkness as a divine chorus of light This is the only comfort to be found in this scene, This grey shadow-drowned yard is an audience of souls, Legions of the unresting that took eternal peace, Transformed it into perpetual imprisonment, And sentenced the spirit bound inside it's casket's walls Benieth the veil of night, This immortal trial is carried out, No rest in the grave and no hope of release, Just the inital moment of the soul's awakening, And the realisation of death -MXC