The Wake

Cemetary

tragedy has spoken

the wolves all gather around

with sharpen teeth and a guilty yellow stare

they wish me on my way



so cold inside this shell

give me to the earth



the dreams that I deserted

the passion I would not release

the path I left untreaded

the mask that I refused to wear

existance left unnoticed

desire in my bones so dry

and silence in the virtue

all so quiet - all so still



I can feel them watching

feel the seconds die

can hear them laughing from above

they wish me on my way