Ceremony of the Dead

[Dark Muse]

Ceremony of the Dead

The vultures
all dressed in black
stand in procession,
a sea of pale faces
rain streaked,
yet they cry no tears.

Another mockery
of ceremony,
the crowed gathered round
in distilled grief.

Bored faces
with yawning eyes
in attendance
according to a sense of duty.

Watching as if they
themselves have gone stiff,
feeling the weight of the
earth pile on their heads.

Still the old vultures
crow on their useless
words with shining
bald heads taunting
like the grins
of the dead.

[Hawkman]

This is, I think, a highly evocative and I suspect acutely observed, poem, Muse. I particularly liked:

Another mockery
of ceremony,
the crowed gathered round
in distilled grief.

In fact it's full of memorable lines. Thanks

H

[Dark Muse]

Thank you!