Death's Inner Circle

 

A sigh of wind, gently caresses, the creaking rope

Unfocused glassy, lifeless eyes, are bereft of hope

There's a frozen snarl, on rigid lips, bloated purple

On the waxen countenance, of death's inner circle

It was, or maybe not, a final act to escape despair

To be somewhere else, but there's someone there

For a shadow, is stretching, under the old oak tree

Or mayhap, it's a deception, mortal eyes can't see

For there's nothing here, except for crumbling bark

Like desiccated bones, it's lost, in the deepest dark

It's where the flesh will rot and the blood will curdle

Only a shadow survives here, in death's inner circle

Naught is living here, save what feeds 'neath hemp

And unbeing here, even the hell of life, might tempt

But like distant memories, it's only time, that warps

Within recurring nightmares, of the hanging corpse