Quadvirium

In a town, there is a grave yard. Where the soil parts, the hands of the dead arise. Within this village, they come in pairs, their bones and flesh, rattling and shaking. It's a dance you see, a jive, a jeer. It sways and moves with the wind and leaves, pumpkins fat as autumn trees. So join the fray, dance till you drop, you really won't want to stop.

In fair Bretagne there was a town,

right where the golden sun sunk down.

With craggy cliffs o’er em’rald seas,

Leaves of violent red and trees of mint green

Twisted and twirled in the air like steam

The trees were beautiful to be seen

Danced upon the wind like the dead in a dream

It crouched against the vicious breeze. 

Pages: 27

File Type: PDF Format

Genre: Horror

Book Type: Poem

Author: Jack Buie