Death A City By The Worm Poem by James McLain

Coming here, as many others have, now why are you.
Thus they travel lost alone and many sing that song.
There tongues, you mend those merry wicked days.
You brought them near too hear, the ghosts of ravens cry.

Crushed limestone and faces pressed and smeared,
sometimes it's ruby red the blood you mixed within the
sand that seams the rocks and moist you hold so dear.

Death sweet, heavy supplant it death, towers over all.
do you see the skulls below, are they mocking you.
Is your throne so high the glint from bone, it passes by..

The line of many, all alone, each whispers none to hear.
It gallops by her tail, you gasp to breath your fleash is seared.
Do you crawl out from your hole to hear your name, I blast.
Oh you, and those wicked little worms, you knew by name.

Come then, come then as roses once then red now turning black.
The moons a different shade of grey it never once conceived.
Are those jewels within each socket like the locket I now wear.
At the end I stand, while I wait for you to speak, and warn the worm.