Dead Centre
Don your hat, grab your cape and walk with me,
let's stalk the streets, take in the frosty air
on cobbled lanes, necromancing we see
confined people of shade suspended there.
They strain against the lock, peer through the rail
of shadow gate where fear and pain collide,
destined to seek the path of peace and fail,
eternal slumber forever denied.
PC Moss walking the beat on last patrol
footsteps in Lock-up yard in echoes sound
in concert with the chains of fettered soul
never to seek solace beneath the ground.
Matins at the Friary can still be heard,
the brotherhood who walk, missals in hand.
In moonlit armour, Roman legions stirred
on Chester Green they march by night's command.
Take heed now of the child's plaintive cry
hurled from Silk Mill tower in ages past
unanswered call to mother, years go by
languishing, no comfort to the last.
These fragile frames of ours will end their days,
we live in hope for immortality
We know not what 'twixt here and heaven lay
so don your hat and cape, and walk with me.
Derby: known to paranormal investigators as 'the dead centre of England'.
For contest- Midnight
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