The Coroner.

Once upon a time is not an appropriate fashion to start this story.
A tale of a sleepy little village, stripped of its former glory.
Take a peek at the graveryard's gates and try to debate,
whether you should be wandering around this late.

Next to the church there appears to be a suspicious little house.
In a drunken stupor the mayor glances at you before his spouse,
pulls him away from the graveyard and towards the marketplace.
You solemnly wonder whether there's something funny upon your face.

Closing in onto the ebony wooden door, you start to think 'I've been here before'.
And in a flash, a dash and other things fast, something struck you to the core.
This is a mad place.. An asylum for all things dread and dead.
Where are thou? Thy wicked queen who orders; 'Off with their head'
Stumbling, mumbling, obscenities not meant to be heard.
Realizing, fearing, the things of the absurd.

Door opens with a crack, a terrifying sound all around.
Accompanied by the howl of a hellhound.
Absentmindedly seeing the phantom without the mask.
No opera house , no Christine and you're too terrified to ask..

Dressed in white, with latex gloves and something sparkling in his hand.
Your legs are paralyzed, you try to flee but you're unable, you simply can't.

His observing eyes scrutinize your features.
"You're quite different from the other dead creatures."
Mumbling something, incoherent, incomprehendible.
He raises an eyebrow, you don't know whether you were understandable.

"I.. I must be going now"  You start to turn.
But he stops you and the touch of his gloves makes your shoulder burn.
"You must? You must? YOU MUST? Oh heavens no."
Oh heavens yes, but deep down you know.

Your brain will never fabricate another poem again.
You will never share your bed with other men.
And you certainly never visit a cemetery.
Of course, it won't be necessary.
It'll become your new sanctuary.

Pray to baby Jesus, God and Mother Mary.
Virgins never were much of a help, now are they?
Your head starts to spin, must be the chlorophorm but hey.
At least it isn't cyanide.. Yet.

He's stripping you down and you'll be lain in a lovely bed.
Whispering softly in your ear.

"Oh darling, have no fear."
"Only the coroner's here"