The Seventeen

I awoke at the dinner table Soup stood in front of me I looked around and recognized no face Yet it all seemed so familiar The dining hall in which we sat Was shrouded in black Other than I, there were seventeen people Sitting at the table All of them wore black clothes As if they were part of the room Blending in and exerting A gloomy feeling Suddenly, all of them at once Started humming a somber melody One that I didn’t recognize Even though I felt like I’d heard it before The seventeen And I In the black But why