Cargando...
Robert L. Martin

In the Graveyard

In the Graveyard
 
Eerie sounds from the cold damp graveyard
Come whistling though the naked branches
Wailing ghouls dressed in tattered suits
Recite poems composed by the Macabre
 
Half dead corpses dance upon the tombs
Life that was once life, now just an image
A heart that pumps a black fluid through
A moldy body that was once a body
A ship that went down inside of it
Like a drowning in the stormy sea
Falling endlessly from skin to the soul
From the living up above to death’s floor
 
A new life springs up from the grave
A half life that clings to the deceased
Like a living that won’t go away
Like a wart that irritates the skin
Like a freedom that incarcerates the free
Like a ghost that wants to stay dead
To lie in that cold damp graveyard forever

Preferido o celebrado por...
Otras obras de Robert L. Martin...



Arriba