The Hamlet

                             
A hamlet bathed in moonlight the snow falling deep and white
The shadows cast around the trees from the glow of the firelight
The sound of the haunting music that delves into my mind
And the thoughts that come in many shapes of every different kind

The weird incessant chanting that penetrates my brain
And the fleeting chance that its over then it gathers pace again
The figures leaping through the flames like tribesmen in a dance
The chant speeds up and then slows down as it holds me in its trance

Its all played out in ghostly shadows that distort as they rise and fall
All this is seen on the surrounding trees and the church's gable wall
I never see the partakers their blocked from the watchers view
Even so their ingrained on the canvas that my mind already drew

Their wearing robes like bygone monks in the colors of their clan
Grayish black with the hoods pulled up and their faces pale and wan
With deeply sunken eye sockets morose and dark and staring
Like burned out blackened pits of coal lifeless and uncaring

The wierd dancing and chanting drones on through the cold snowy night
Im lied in the back of this bone chilling car bemoaning my terrible plight
On this remote filling station forecourt am I destined to perish alone
Theres Me and this hellish gathering of fiends kept apart by a wall of old stone

The fear has me gripped in its cold hand of steel my anguish purveys how I feel
If i keep my head down and don't make a sound i can maybe survive this ordeal
My bodies so tense and my limbs are all aching theres no way ill manage to rest
With great trepidation I get through the night an unseen and unwelcome guest

Then the dancing stops and silence falls as the ghouls from the gathering depart
Their Big black shadows on the old church wall look menacing and quicken my heart
They Peter out in single file not a footfall is heard as they troupe
Then the flames disappear and darkness falls engulfing the ghostly group

I've readied myself on this cold frosty morn I'm prepared to view the scene
But all that's there is a graveyard deep in snow and quite serene
There's not a trace of the fire that burned with the very eerie glow
And where the devilish dance took place no footsteps in the snow

No explaination can be found in the depths of my currious mind
There's not a trace of fuliginous earth or disruption of any kind
Just a frosty carpet with a deep rich pile and headstones with venerable histories
Its been logged and registered in my psyche as another of life's great mysteries

By LJM