Mortua Plorata

"Mortua Plorata"
[The Wailing Dead]


Across the ginger red waters to distant lands
Beneah a regal, fuschia sky filled of light
These horrid choir members extend their ghostly hands
To the living glee fo the still warm on festival night

With lures of joy laid in shallow, sandy graves
The breathing fools dance round festive fires
Unaware fo what nears across those crimson waves
To meet them in the glow of these roaring pyres

Wailing their songs of woe and despair
Screaming upon the helpless souls doomed to pass
With death's high pitch coursing through the air
Draining what's left of an already half empty glass

A desire to call mere mortals near their side
To deliver the dying souls to the golden shores
Where they will forever and a day longer reside
The essence of death embedded in their pores


Poet Darká