The dance of
the dead
Is a waltz,
Played to a
dirge.
It is played
by musicians
Whose
instruments ,
Are made of
coffin wood, and cobwebs and dust.
The music of
the dead
Is played
only rarely,
In the
darkest depths of night.
But when it
is played,
When the
musicians take up their instruments,
It is played
with vigor.
As the moon
shines down,
It gleams
off bone,
As the
dancers take the stage.
The dance is
intricate,
And as old
as time itself,
But the
steps are new every time.
It is said,
That dead men
tell no tales,
But they
dance a ditty.
