Dirge Of The Dead

Do you hear somewhere, in the darkness, the sirens' song?
It's a pure and enrapturing choir, beyond mortality's throng
Rendering the blackest incantations, of a bewitching spell
Ghostly ephemeral, juxtaposed to a sagacious solemn knell
Each restless night's, unending passage, of troubled dreams
Opens the potential portals, of unnerving post-life themes
For those enchanting charms are by dark lamentations led
They are lifeless threnodies, they are the dirge of the dead
Hauntingly seductive and as alluring, as an umbra's clutch
Every note of conjuration is a caress of the othersides touch
Dystopian nightmares merge, where demons die in its thrall
Evaporating like misty phantoms under the approaching pall
And beyond ethereal psalms are seas of silence to be among
Do you hear them now, or are you already where you belong?