by: Ron Dailey

It’s twelve minutes past midnight
and you best be prepared
for you can not be frightened
nor internally scared
As you look past those shadows
from those dark voices you hear
reminiscing in ghost
you forgot through the years
As you walk past this place
while so young and so brave
yet so darkened the hole
of this lonely mans grave
Yes somewhere in the distance
from up under a tree
a dark spirit shall rise
break loose and be free
leaving behind
a soul with soiled stains
sealed up encrypted
skeletal remains
Two empty sockets
will stare up at the lid
forced to recollect
what the lonely man did
Imprisoned eternal
six feet underground
not one rise of light
not one visitor found
Yes somewhere in the distance
death – chilled to the bone
to be forever forgotten
and to be always alone !

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