So Said The Dead
So, Said the Dead
Indeed, it is an eldritch scrimmage,
The scraggy Dead trudge into a village.
Here to mop up man’s moral spillage.
Their pathetic carcasses, they drag,
Twisted heads and spines sag.
Cadaver remnants, bones and rags.
Living, go cower in your beds,
The grisly parade of the Dead, said.
Be paralysed with terror and dread.
Woe be tide, any, who venture outside.
To look upon Death’s gruesome ride.
The skeletal steed, he is astride.
Wraiths from hell, it’s tormented attire,
Your fate sealed by raging eyes of fire.
Your heart will stop and life expire.
Heed our warning, the Dead said.
We too, loved, fought and bled.
Life hangs on a flimsy thread.
Embrace the very air you breathe,
Before coffin arrives with funeral wreathe.
Remains, join ours, in the earth beneath.
Your terror makes us howl in mirth.
Squirm like worms, huddle by the hearth.
Man has a dearth of days on this earth.
Death’s grotesque pageant, stunk of hate,
Life’s leftovers with crawling, lurching gait.
Leave the Living to contemplate their fate.
Withered corpses clad in funeral dight,
Shuffled Death's gruesome knights,
Melting into the malevolent moonlight.
Copyright © 2017 Julie I. Black
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