A Walk Through The Catacombs With My Love

Ghastly, horrid, in tattered shrouds;
Their features ravaged by decay.
Though their faces haunt you at night,
They are only the dead, my love.

Lifeless they lay, fettered to doom.
Unable to taste of our world.
Though their eyes seem ever to stair,
They are only the dead, my love.

Wretched husks, devoid of all sense,
They taunt us with our mortal fear.
Though they encroach upon your dreams,
They are only the dead, my love.

Gone to dust, banished from time,
They howl in silence from the grave.
Though their spirits have found no peace,
They are only the dead, my love.

Shadow things, cast into the void
Where we can not hope to reach them.
Though even now they walk and breath,
They are only the dead, my love.

                             * * *

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