The chapel of the dead-
the belfry!
silent whispers carried
by the wind,
as suppressed shrieks of
mourning grief,
wrapped in stolen dreams!
Their bones are resting
in the graveyard;
ages pass..and
yet still pass!
until the bitter scythe
dissects the
veins of mighty Time!
In the boiling swamp of
unearthly senses,
they plot their lust
for life-
either to feel the glee
when spring begins,
or alter
with the cosmic night!
Whispers Of Night
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-belfry-2/
