No Sleep, We Weep, We Creep, We Brood. Poem by Michael Gale

Light, light, light by a moon lit night...
Pal-en shimmering of death brought fright.

Misplaced skull-en...
Woe so sullen.

Mayhaps ye experience a wan tasted deed...
Abreast to thee-of misled greed.

Horror-ed feelings spoon fed by fright this night...
Dietetics' duties spared by a far distaste of somber macabre food.

Frightening anticipation dispensed by a slumbering sleep stupefied mood...
No sleep, we weep, we creep, we brood.

Too much decaying crumbs sprinkled above to sad bowing heads...
We flee from deadly oracles and failing feelings of dreads.

A sill'ied being saddened forlornly whilst amassed at contemptment day of rejoice...
Bad haunting of the innocents are only decided as justified by mistakes so sadly accepted by a voice of mis-choice.