
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