The Cemetery Is Waiting Poem by Tony Avila Sampson

Oh, light and dark with time that be,
Movement of matter and gravity;
Darkness be spread so very far,
Shine brightness upon the moon from a star,
Illuminate darkness with a glow,
Fast spinning motions, now spin deathly slow;
The face of the moon, floats a very dark cloud,
Come bats to soar the Reaper's dark shroud;
Low fog to creep upon the cold ground,
The cemetery is waiting its graveyard bound;
Shovel by shovel a hole to be dug,
Its walls to bear slime from an old slug,
Deep is the hole when its all dugout,
Inside those walls, worms and bugs hideout,
Awaiting their feast, does each creeping one,
The hole once filled, unleashes their fun,
With worms to crawl in and worms to crawl out,
They'll fill the mortal mans stomach and creep out his mouth,
So cast here your spell, Witch, upon mortal man,
Let him enjoy some kind of pleasure while he still can!


(2007)