The Graveyard

Midnight orb, swirly silvery white,

Hung against the inky black sky

As the town clock chimed loudly.

The city slept, living in their dreams.

But a silent figure approached,

its shadows falling upon the countless rows of cement blocks,

where hundreds of the dead lay unseen.

The figure raised its head,

and feverishly muttered prayers

that were lost in the gloomy stillness.

His trembling feet crunched upon the cold gravel

as he wondered what force had dragged him here.

The wind was still, not a leaf fluttered,

silence echoed and the time ceased to have meaning.

The man stopped, as the chill seeped into his bones,

a numbing dread, an unknown fear clutched his heart

as he stood upon dry stones and leaves,

powerless.

The graves cracked open,

the trees shook their winding branches,

the cowardly creatures scampered away,

the man stood petrified

and the shining silhouettes rose towards him.

Glittering yet murky,

glorious yet appalling,

faceless bodies, without feeling.

They glided closer, and closer still,

circling the man,

as he cowered on his knees;

Closer and closer they advanced,

murmuring sinister words,

closer and closer they floated,

till the man was seen no more.