adrena

My graveyard picnic for Edgar
Weak of the spirit
Still your heart and sit on the ground
Tell the leaves the dreams you have forgotten
Singing Annabel Lee and Lenore are in the grave at my feet;

If you find the living a bore
Sneak in just like the breeze
Stay awhile and hear the dead speak
Answer the call of the epitaphs
Watching Vlad and Victor are dancing in the shadows;

The woman in white haunting
Calling the dark of my soul
Look round dead witch walking
And sway in the shadows of clouds
Sleeping Mary and Emily are keeping a crypt open for you

Come sit near our graves
Bend to the marble and hear
The tales of old and lore
Sitting under the dead oak
Waiting to see you climb the fence to where the crosses are all in a row. . . .