Creek Stones Rising - with Grace

Creek stones rising from the bed
neath the barren carrion moon
dark's cliché miming metaphors
among the infirmary of the dead  
transcending analysis of the doom  
with pebbles of shekels in the head
whetting the night's appetite's bite  
creek stones rising from the bed
 
necropolises trampled by awkward feet
to see and converse perhaps to greet
one that’s gone beyond the shroud
a mere grey shadow full of dread
picking up smooth pebbles for eyes
rounded in shock as if in surprise
within the roiling earth of the grave
a sound rumbled asking for the return
the night sounds of gnashing teeth