She Calls Me To The Graveyard Poem by the hobbler

Between shadow and light,
By the bone white of moon,
In cemetery meadows
of melancholy gloom

She waits for me there!
She waits, as I sleep!
At half past hell
she comes in my dreams!

With red varnished lips
and pale mottled skin,
wrapped in sheer satin
from her velveteen bed.
Dammed to have died
before it was time!
Dammed for the love!
of my moribund bride!

MY CEMETERY QUEEN!
She cries out to me!
from her stone cold bed!
to the shreiks in my dreams!

Tonite, I will lie
in the crypt of her grave,

TONITE! I WILL DIE
IN HER ARMS AS SHE LAYS!

Between shadow and light,
by the bone white of moon,
in cemetery meadows

of gravestones and tombs.