Haunted graveyards anyone?

Heirlooms In the Shadows
by Michael Doyle

Where there is wanton violence
There is always fear in that place
You can feel it in the silence
That permeates darkness in that space

Standing there with the coffin flung wide
Death was met there amidst his stride
Sometimes the truth is not wanted to be heard
But truth must be known of all things incurred 

Though it might seem almost inconceivable 
Perhaps this is the truth most believable
The shutters open to a blustery, windy night
All for the sake of promises made under moonlight

Family secrets that should never be told
Hide the truths of horrors as these unfold
Heirloom jewelry buried and taken into grave
As though these held some power to save

Hanging firm as evil in the crypt air
The price to be paid is often unfair
The living are not welcome to go there
In this graveyard filled with bleak fear

It's surprising how many pretend to be
These things they cannot and will never be
If it were a crime, we'd all be locked away
Or, at least, so it seems, evil persons say

You cannot pay respect when you haven't any
And the regrets to be had will be many
Where the ignorant insist on taking chances
The mausoleum of the dead is where the Devil dances

(c) March 19, 2020  Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved