Death Song

[Kris5911]

A cemetery. Shadows. The sun is rising. Curling mist retreats into the cracks and under the doors of ancient tombs. Darkness pulls back into the surrounding woods. Light touches engraved images and inscriptions on the headstones. An iron-spiked fence contains the resting graves of the few thousand souls. Angels and saints stand guard over the rich, and words from the Scripture Book protect those of the poor. Monuments stand erect for remembered heroes; and worn, broken stones are fallen over those who are forgotten.

This place, where souls sleep in death, holds the old and the new and there is always room for more; no one’s particular of whom. All love to sing death’s song, and welcome the new soul to their bed. You wouldn’t find a burial ground frightening during the day, would you? Not while you can see around the corners, across the yard, and the rusting gate you left swinging open. No, you wouldn’t mind walking this place, reading the dates and epitaphs, or sitting on the oldest headstone you could find while laughing of ghost tales. In the light of day you think there is naught to fear. Until you listen.

You listen to the breeze shaking the dew from the leaves, you listen to the jays and mocking birds. Fighting squirrels you laugh at their chattering, you try to see the trickle of water inside the wood beyond the iron fence, and then… you know fear.

Where did it come from? How has it taken hold on you? What is it?! Suddenly you know. A tune is being whispered. You hear a hum… or a moan? You listen more carefully ‘cause you’re sure it’s there and that is what is giving you the jitters. It is a sad, weeping song; it shakes and it cries. But where does it come from? You are startled and wild-eyed.

You run to a tomb, then to another, yes, that’s where it is coming from… or behind you in the ground near that broken gray statue? Far away now, across the yard; is it in the woods? All around you, from the graves beneath the ground which you tread, and in the air and wind where the souls rise ‘round your head.

The branches of the woods appear to have grabbed hold of the fence and are shaking it. Causing it to ring with the mournful melody. You take a step back and startle when you stumble over a low gravestone. Your mind screams ‘run!’ but that is something you won’t allow yourself to do. It is morning, you are absolutely alone in the cemetery and you’re freaking out. But you won’t let yourself run, you couldn’t live with that. You are going to keep your cool and walk calmly out the gate…

Your steps quicken. Your strides don’t seem to be getting you out of there fast enough! The singing is getting louder! You slam the gate shut and the music stops. All is silent. What had happened in there? Had it been your imagination? You open the gate a little and hear a shriek! Throwing the gate shut again you run down the dirt road, dust sticks to your sweating skin, and suddenly the branches tunneling over the path seem to be shrinking around you! They’re closing in, trying to capture you!

You’re in the town now. Brick road is under your feet, but you don’t stop until you reach your rented cottage and flop in exhaustion on the bed. It seemed surreal. It had to have been your overworked imagination.

Darkness closes over your eyes and you fall into a troubled sleep. It plays in your head over and over again. That horrible, woeful song from the fenced-off cemetery keeps growing loud with wails and then lulling into a gentle weep and whispering in your ears. It won’t stop! Won’t leave you alone! It keeps haunting…

You wake up, but the singing hasn’t stopped. It is fading, but is clearer than what you heard at the burial ground. Cautiously, you look outside your window. Apparently you have slept the whole day through and now in the evening dusk; you see the last of hundreds of glowing and flickering torches, carried by the town’s folk, all marching solemnly toward the cemetery and they are singing the tune.

What are they doing? Curiosity overcomes your fear and you climb out your window to follow them. You discover this is a procession. A funeral. And the people are singing a death song.

You follow at a distance, hidden by the dark shadows outside the procession’s light of fire. The night goes by in a blur of wails and soft chants, with flames and shadows dancing, the town people moving. This is all very interesting but you can’t keep your eyes open another second.

While you lie on the crest of an embankment watching the goings on, sleep takes you, but this time you sleep well for the souls are at rest as is their new brethren. Peace reigns once more in the barred haven for the dead. Later, in the new and early dawn, you write this song:

The song is crisp and clear
Touches tips of living ears
And the message is heard by the folks
Souls battling for life
Have lost strength to fight
They’ve died and given up the ghost

Down a misty lane
(More a marsh after rain)
A line of people be seen
In the black of night
Through woods with candle light
Horrific sights eerie shadows bring

A long sober parade
March not a charade
As they carry the dead to their yards
In the cover of night
They deliver in fright
The husks to their graves behind bars

Then quick they remove
All life from the gloom
The mourners depart to their homes
And leave the dark night
To come alive with such frights
Creatures and ghouls that will roam

Shadows dance in dark light
To a song without life
Bare branches give creak to the tune
Soft notes the wind brings
All those near join the sing
Giving voice at the fading full moon

The wails and the groans
Late night howls and moans
In chilling blows of the wind
The dead kreen a wake
For passing brothers of late
An eerie, ill-foreboding hymn

A song of welcome,
A song of death
To those who’ve left the living breath
A chant of words
So low and old
A melody of death unfolds

At the song of the dead
Haunting souls leave their beds
In whispers they moan with the singing
They surround the new grave
Raise their hands in a wave
To welcome the dead from the living

[Nisha Ward]

A bit dark but overall very exceptional.

[DD129]

Amazing writing, both in prose as well as poetry! The dark mood persisted throughout the whole piece and was accentuated by your quality descriptions.

[Kris5911]

Amazing writing, both in prose as well as poetry! The dark mood persisted throughout the whole piece and was accentuated by your quality descriptions.

Thank you for reading, and for the encouragement.

[Sstelton3]

Love it ! It’s deep and dark, my kinda book . Exceptional piece !! I would read more caught my attention.

[Moodykelz_10]

What a beautifully dark piece. I loved it. I loved the poetry element to it. Cemeteries are such amazing places and the description was superb.

[Ben Moore]

This was strange but good. Like the person at the beginning, I felt like something sinister was going on but couldn’t pinpoint what was so troubling.

Very well done.

[Kris5911]

This was strange but good. Like the person at the beginning, I felt like something sinister was going on but couldn’t pinpoint what was so troubling.

Very well done.

Thanks for reading, and for your comment.

[AstridZ08]

Your poetry is very soft but at the same time mysterious and deep

Amazing!

[mddodgen]

Your story caught my attention and held me. I was breathless until the end. Thank you for sharing.

[La Cabra]

Such pretty writing! I loved the descriptions and also the use of the second-person writing. When you described the person running, I sort of panicked for the fraction of a second cos my knee is currently injured and I can't run haha! What I mean is, your writing is very absorbing.

Keep up the good stuff!