King Of The Ossuary Poem by Taylor Reese

In crypt's cold hush, on bone-built throne.
A skeletal king, with eyes of stone.
Mocks pleas for wisdom, a grand design.
His rasping laugh, a chilling whine.
'Trust not the sun, ' he whispers low.
'Let shadows guide you where you go.
Climb not the mountain, seek the cave.
Where whispers promise what they crave.'
His hollow grin, a ghastly sight.
Teeth like tombstones in the night.
'Love is a poison, sweet and strong.
Despair your lover, all life long.'
Heed not his counsel, born of spite.
This king of corpses, lost at night.
For hope still flickers, though faint and frail.
A brighter path will yet prevail.
But some, entranced by death's dark call.
Descend to heed the king's enthrall.
Their living warmth to shadows sold.
Their futures grim, their stories told.