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?