World of pain,
 Aflame with sadness.
 Shrouded with ails 
 Unspeakable 'lest my mouth spills.

 The beckoning of flowers bent
 With the weight of sorrow.
 Of stones with names
 1 never knew, yet feel..
 I dance with them
 And hear their soft whisp

 Cursed be thy name and all thine deeds.
 Oh how we yearn for the life you seek to spill.
 Thou art [bad word] black,
 And the dead writhe
 'neath the earth on which you trod.

 No throne is mine among the Dead.
 With shame entombed in restless graves.
 tearless sermon, and
 Their silent tongues fell limp.

 But mute curses sting deep.
 ... deep into the soil,
 And travels yon the gates
 Where they may linger
 Like unwanted children.
 Growing as tumours
 In wombs of stone
 Under weeping willows.

 No peace then in death
 Or life alike.
 So be it...
 But all are dead,
 And only the knell sings.
 Hymns of grief
 Resounding in ancient churchyards.

 Sweet is that serenade
 To eyes in bloom with sadness.