Grave Wind

Through yon graveyard I tread
The night is thick with gloom
 ‘midst the shadows of the dead  
I pass a stony tomb

The wind doth moan and wail
Yet something darker stirs
A sound of claws, so sharp, so frail
That through the silence purrs

Beneath the marble door
A scratching doth arise
As if some foul thing seeks to soar  
From death, with hollow cries

No wind could wake this sound
For here the dead are still
Yet from the grave, a wretched pound  
Doth shake the night with chill

I stand as fear takes hold
May the stones give way?
Things beneath  so pale and cold
Doth scratch for life, or prey?

Maybe rotted and black with blight
Best avoid the graven wretch
For souls lost to endless night
May rise again for things to catch