The Bone Collector's Waltz

The Bone Collector's Waltz

Under the hollow moon’s cold gaze,
Bones do rattle, shadows blaze,
Graveyard whispers call my name,
Dancing 'round the pit of shame.

Dusty echoes twist and bend,
Fingers claw where dreams descend,
Candles burn with rotted light,
Guiding souls through endless night.

Spin and sway to the Bone Collector’s Waltz,
Where skeletons laugh and the grave dirt halts,
Twisted limbs in a ghastly dance,
Bound by fate, they take their chance.

Creaking gates and roots entwine,
Grinning skulls in crooked line,
Eyes of coal and teeth of rust,
Swaying slow in death’s own dust.

Bones entwined with moss and vine,
Clattering feet in dreadful time,
From the crypt a mournful hum,
Summons waltzing spirits numb.

Spin with me, through roots and stones,
Where marrow hums and sorrow groans,
Forevermore the dance shall weave,
Till dawn awakes and shadows leave.

Spin and sway to the Bone Collector’s Waltz,
Where skeletons laugh and the grave dirt halts,
Twisted limbs in a ghastly dance,
Bound by fate, they take their chance.

When morning breaks and light ascends,
The waltz will die, but not the friends—
Bones will wait, in silent rows,
Till night returns to decompose.