He Whom Walks With the Dead

Hark! The silence no more
Breaking under an omens kiss
Behold, the devils at my door
The spells of heaven long since amiss

Strangers beset of fate and lore
Whittled from an ancient bone
A court is held upon the shore
And with this curse I lift the stone

As symmetry and sunset lingers
The knell of death to come tolling
Crooked and outstretched fingers
Beckon the guest to come strolling

Ever after and through this age
His shadow centers on the mound
The robes of deities clothe this Sage
Whom guards the place where truth is found