Least Read Poems About Graveyard

Do you know what you really are?

A 'dash' between two dates.

A cemetery headstone or plague will confirm your insignificance.

And

If you're reading this, you already have a dash looking for a second date.

-

Beneath the pall of moonless ebon skies
Where tombs lie sundered by unholy will
A sorcery of black and fetid ties
Awakens whispers in the midnight chill

O necromancy, art of dread and gloom
Thy eldritch chords resound in cryptic halls
Thy power rends the sanctity of tomb
And calls the dead from Death’s eternal thralls

The charnel wind doth howl thy cursed name
Charcoaled woods where lifeless phantoms creep
Thy servants tread on bones now burnt by flame
While shadows writhe as if they wake from sleep

The rites thou...

Bo was 6 yrs old when he made a full body
silhouette in class. He chose black paper and he carefully cut it out and brought it home proudly.
He called it his shadow.

He taped it to his wall near his bed and there it
stayed for 3 years. The longest our mom had ever stayed in any apartment.  The building was owned by our extremely perverted aunt. She liked to touch him.

So did our Mom. The entire family was like that.  He
secretly told me that he put his soul into his "shadow" to keep it safe from mom, our aunt - the entire family! ...

Clambering through the frosted wood
I seek the warmth of hearth and home
Somewhere pure, somewhere good
With family and leather tomes

My feet falter at the village's edge
Yet the cold does not sting my skin
To them, I’d sworn a sacred pledge
I’d return, though laden with sin

Oh, how I long to see their face
Lifted from the frozen ground
I even brought fine sheets and lace
So happy now to be found

I knock upon their wooden door
It opens, and I sense their fear
Their trembling hands drop items to the floor ...

Beneath yon moonlit, hallowed ground
Doth creep a beast of dread untold
Its claws with cursed marrow crowned
Its gaze a pyre both fierce and cold

A shadowed wretch of sinewy rot
Its breath, a whisper fraught with pain
Lingers 'neath stagnant wisps and knots
A harbinger of doom's refrain

Yet lo! It dwelleth not alone
For deep within thy trembling chest
Its likeness molds thy heart to stone
And robs thy soul of tranquil rest

Thy own despair it calls its lair
Thy sins, the feast it doth devour
It weaves thy...