Close the garden gate against the dead.
Don’t dream of their
dark feast.
Though they pound and
wail against the glass
Don’t mind them in
the least.
Using pity like a
velvet cloak
They beg to be let
in.
But they envy us our
life inside
Like laughing is a
sin.
The ancient ones,
more calm than most
They are the ones
that weep.
When they watch us
love or dance and sing
So lost without their
sleep.
Those are the ones
that break my heart
Because they are not
cruel.
Still, I kept the
hounds of hell outside
I was not a fool.
Be so wise, do not be
tricked
They cannot stand a
smile.
Someday we’ll join
them, so they say
But I’d rather wait
awhile.
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