Echoes of the Lost (Written to the music of Prelude a la Nuit, by Maurice Ravel)

Moonlight’s far reach,
Shone the cold night’s thick fog.
The sweet aroma of lotus fills the nostrils,
As the wind carries the scent through the trees.
A bastion of nature harbors vile secrets from curious eyes,
As clouds eclipse the moon.
Terrors hidden beneath the ground,
Seeds sowed by wrath and greed.
Once they lived fruitful lives,
Now their flesh rots in graves not their own,
Their lives ended before time would claim.
Eyes staring with no gaze beneath.
Bones broken.
Stricken with rigor mortis,
Maggots feasting.
They linger,
As specters in the night.
Restless,
As vengeful banshees.
To those they loved,
They are but distant memories,
While those they hate dance on their graves.
Lost.
Forgotten.
Betrayed.
Murdered...