The Catacomb
Catacombs, slumbering dead
Slipped from life emotions shed
Blistering dark, insects creep
Dead will all their secrets keep.
Concrete world laden grey
Occupants have had their day
Guardian angel made of stone
Feelings nil for those old bones.
Silent wait 'til judgment day
Undertone of great dismay
Dust motes dance display macabre
Ghostly song from long-dead bard.
Tourists come they're not naive
'tis their fate they do perceive
Footsteps shuffle then they run
Eager for life, air, and sun
My apologies but I am taking a trip down memory lane with this poem . The piece was written after a visit to the Capuchin Crypts in Rome. I took poetic license with this piece it was not a typical subterranean catacomb. However, It made a lasting impression.
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