Remember TheDead
By candle’s breath the shadows creep through halls of sorrow,
Where whispers wake the sleepless ghosts of each lost morrow.
The ivy claws at windows cold, in hunger and dread,
While moonlight mourns upon the stones remember the dead.
The clock strikes twelve, its echo cries through mortal fears,
A hymn of dust, of faded love, of endless tears.
The portraits weep in golden frames where silence bled,
Their eyes still plead through time and pain remember the dead.
Through crypt and chapel drifts the scent of wilted bloom,
Where souls in lace await the dawn that breaks their gloom.
So when the wind moans low and prayers of night are said,
Kneel softly, whisper once again—remember the dead.
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Would you like me to format it in a Victorian parchment style (aged-text effect, candle emoji dividers, or ornamental breaks) for a more “award presentation” look?
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