David J. Delaney
CRYING SOULS
Lurking, lurking mist creeping around headstones
Moistened soil covering decaying bones
Lurking, lurking mist.
Swirling, swirling through crevasses and crosses
Zephyrs brush across thick green mosses
Swirling, swirling zephyrs.
Hanging, hanging moist vines drape from trees
Rhythmic swaying with the breeze
Hanging, hanging vines.
Chiming, chiming town clock strikes midnight
Eeriness overcomes this old graveyard site
Chiming, chiming clock.
Rising, rising souls begin their nightly journey
Trapped within these boundaries for eternity
Rising, rising souls.
Glowing, glowing contorted bodies can be seen
Silvery moonlight enhances the gothic scene
Glowing, glowing bodies.
Floating, floating ghostly figures ‘n’ mournful cries
Skeletal, decaying flesh, sunken eyes
Floating, floating ghosts.
Screaming, screaming voices reliving never-ending pain
Blood upon blood washed away with rain
Screaming, screaming voices.
Returning, returning slowly toward their eternal grave
Forever to remain Satan’s slave
Returning, returning to Satan.
Approaching, approaching dawn brings forth new life
Releasing serenity instead of ghoulish strife
Approaching, approaching dawn.
©Copyright October 20, 2008 by David J. Delaney
Author’s Note: I wrote this for a friend who read it to a group of his friends, in the dark, with a single candle in the middle of a table