Editing HumanIty
Shadows lurk upon the floor The daylight hours soon no more The hammer rings Upon gold things Immersed in crimson fire The people walk across the square Furtive glances, no longer there The bell tongs The sound of gongs The daylight hours now retire The doors open soft and quick The light appears from candlesticks The flames flare Then are not there Returned to eternal oblivion The night brings soundless sleep to those Who need not care nor carry woes Their sleep is deep Yet no one weeps For all feel sick revulsion The box is placed within the ground The speech that follows, not profound They all then leave No time to grieve As repetition returns it's hold
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Editing HumanIty