A Song for the Dead

The ashen grey muse commissions a new verse

A song to while away the long sojourn in the hearse

Yet all of us who danse macabre to these dour, dismal tunes

Become cold, grim and hard as the dirt upon the tomb

In darkened dirges death's knell peals out it's toll

As another cadaver is consigned six feet down to its hole

But ere the last shovel of dirt falls on the wall of the box

We gravely offer a salute to those about to rot

So lift up your severed heads, in a song for the dead

Life's course ever runs red, so let no lyric remain unsaid

As from our mouths the melody is bled, in a symphony scripted in red

Like rats by the piper we're led, to join in this song for the dead

The humor of the gallons never fails to ring true

In this dead, bleak, sick world that we're hung, drawn and quartered though

As each internecine instrument plays its own bloody part

The hammering of coffin nails outpaces the beating of our hearts

Symphonic surgery orchestrated, a cleaver conducts

The execrable epiphany comes too late, just to reduce us to chunks

Rising up from the sod heaves a gross, putrid breath

As the chorus is joined in this song for the dead

So lift up your severed heads, in a song for the dead

Life's course ever runs red, so let no lyric remain unsaid

As from our mouths the melody is bled, in a symphony scripted in red

Like rats by the piper we're led, to join in this song for the dead

Truncated toccatas deranged, raked across barbed strings and hacked

Eviscerated etudes for the de-brained, plucked upon heartstring stretched

On the rack

Medicinal movements decomposed

Regurgitating oratorios obscene

Forensic fugues and de-boned

Mutilating the melody's method and means

The crepitated coda dies in mid-refrain

As the sheet-music is obscured by a sanguine scarlet stain

Shattered stave lodged in your split-open splattered brain

The ruptured meter falters as the bow is fretted once again

Acrid arias are screeched

The bloated thorax is breached

Abrading viscera with bleach

Grotesquely gavage the deceased

Cleaving the clef

Broken notes bleed into a mess

Falling on ears so deaf

So it ever is in death

Carbonized cantatas corrupt, ringing out, sewing seeds of dischord and

Dismay

Suppurated sonatas erupt, Purulent pizzicatos slicing every which way

The truncated cadence is sundered, Bloody scraps of sheet music

Unintellibly scrawled

Threnodies resonate six feet under, To where all life's fractured melodies

Will finally resolve

The symphonic slaughter's swells without restraint

As the cacophonous cadenza splits your eardrums clean in twain

The repugnant orchestra pit an abattoir of death and pain

The hatchet falls in sharp staccato until everyone is slain