An Unwelcome Guest

Ancestral hearts, unmet - unseen,

before the days of those we touched,

cross lines of time to stand between

darkness and the light they clutch. As

evening falls on this hallowed ground,

from midnight through to breaking dawn,

grisly ghouls, from graves unbound

harvest souls of unworthy spawn.

In this place where bones turn dust,

jackals feast on unkempt minds,

kneading morals into rust,

leave no empathy behind.

Mortal lives are gained and lost,

never knowing right nor truth.

Ominous spirits, unseen cost,

putrid stench of breed uncouth.

Quivers echo in screaming hearts, who

run from pasts they’ve never seen.

Shimmering glances of paths to chart, where

tombstoned lies exist between.

Unnerving whispers soon forewarn,

visions of torture and death unkind.

Wicked screams from blackened maw, of

xanthous creatures with vengeful minds.

Yearning truth from history, my

zealous pursuit - the end of me.

***

My brother took this picture and several others at a cemetery he visited in our home province. It's on a small island off the coast and holds the graves of many of our ancestors, some as far back as the 18th century (and maybe even before.) I've never been there myself, and know nothing about the people buried there.

Unfortunately, our grandparents passed when we were very young, and our father's generation didn't know anything about our history or the people who came before us. But since it's October, and graves are "cool" this month, I decided to write this poem. Hopefully, my ancestors would be more welcoming if we really had a chance to meet.

*For Mike's October Challenge: