Corpse-Candles
by Richard H. Fay
Glittering bright orbs
Move through naked trees,
Dancing and darting
Like restless children
Playing hide-and-seek
In a quaint garden.
Souls lost in the night
Soar in the still air.
They gather near me,
But stay out of reach.
They lead me deeper
Into the dark wood.
As a moth to flame
I follow the lights.
Blackness surrounds me.
Only the flicker
Of spectral candles
Guides my reckless steps.
The ancient oaks part
To reveal headstones
Hidden in the wood.
A forlorn graveyard
Choked with thorny weeds
Lays beneath the stars.
Lights cavort above
The overgrown graves,
Then descend groundward.
I spy pale phantoms
Pining for warm flesh
Long reduced to dust.
The sad shades beckon
And draw me along
A perilous ridge.
Blindly I stumble
And tumble headfirst
Down a rocky grade.
Battered and broken,
My body grows cold.
As life ebbs away
From this mortal shell,
My spirit will join
That fey troupe of lights.
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