Rot Beneath the Chapel

Rot Beneath the Chapel

Candles drowned in pools of wax

Wooden pews leaned out of line

Dust circled through the shattered glass

While ravens gathered near the gate

The chapel smelled of ancient rain

Wet stone mixed with burnt-out ash

A rusted bell hung overhead

Silent through the endless cold

I walked alone beyond the cross

My footsteps stirred the sleeping dirt

Something moved beneath the ground

Slow enough to chill the spine

The earth split open near my feet

Black hands reached through rotted roots

Every prayer I carried there

Turned to rot beneath the chapel

The altar cloth was stained with mold

Dark water spread across the floor

Broken statues lined the walls

Their faces eaten down by time

A dying candle near the front

Cast long shadows through the aisle

Each flicker shaped distorted forms

Twisting slowly through the dark

Outside the storm began to rise

Thunder rolled beyond the graves

The chapel windows shook like bones

Ready to collapse at dawn

Still I heard the voices there

Soft beneath the falling rain

Calling from beneath the earth

Where all forgotten things remain

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