The Space Between Graves

Cold hard and frozen ground

Sleep silently heart that doth not pound

Under mounds of hard packed earth

Skeletal grins full of mirth

Each resting in their place

Yet avoiding the cimmerian space

That void between each casket

Insidious and silent not making a racket

Leering from the shadows gloom

The thing in the dying room

Ask not what it could be

For it's better that it should not be free

This thing with rotted eyes

An ebony intent fitting of a cimmerian sky

Let it lie between two dead knaves

This thing in the space between graves