Inkwell of Insanity _ with "Adagio"

When writing macabre, one must become
their ghost waiting in escrow avoiding the sun
tides of ice freezing the albacore of their mind
with an inkwell full of insanity's oats
"God Rest You, Merry Gentlemen." The quill
is quicker than your aye.
Amidst the mirth of the intruders
living in the place I once called home,
now, all that’s left is my soul quietly festering
in the cracks of my walls
listening to the incompetent souls
pretending their eventuality is on hold.