Funeral Hag

Through the veil of endless night She wander slow, devoid of sight A shadows form, a whisper thin Calling souls to crawl within Her breath is frost upon the grave A curse that blinds, a life enslaved Her fingers trace the rotting wood Where mourners stood, where none now stood Beneath her hood, no face remains Just hollow whispers, gasps of pain Her voice like winds through deadened trees A sorrow sung in wretched pleas The church bells toll in distant gloom A hymn of loss, a shrouded doom She walks where light has turned to dust Through crumbled stone and iron rust No dawn shall break, no warmth shall rise She dwells beneath the ashen skies A mother pale to graves unfilled To feed the earth, to drink the chilled Through endless years, she treads alone Her funeral dirge, a hollow drone The dead will rise, the living fall She gathers one, she gathers all