Mortem

Silent and still the forest was As if someone set the world on pause Without a chirp or a song of bird Not a single soul seemed to have stirred Shadows crept upon the floor As whispers crawled through the Moore The fog hung low upon the hills The cold winters air flushed in with chills A murder of crows circled above As there cackles and caws rang thereof The distance heard howling wolves Decaying leaves drifted on winds pulls Clouds drifted and opened up As the moonlight tore through and built up Silver streams sprayed upon the tombs As Beetles crept toward unseen fumes A reflection of light bounced from the scythe Shadows danced, wriggled and writhed A figure cloaked in darkness stood alone His face abandoned of flesh, only bone Along the path he walked As crows around him flocked Elegance in his stride An air of calm to confide In his home upon the Graves Drifting through the wooden staves No sound made nor a single breath For all bowed before the presence of Death