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A hallowed chorus echoes in the deep woods.

White smoke stains the black sky grey.

Flaming torches fly side by side together humming,

Enchanting those whose lives are soon to change.

The dead cold creeps ever closer.

Gnawing on the limbs of children dancing.

Laughter's hollow sound is swallowed quick by Bacchus hushing,

By opiates. These stay the cold, for now.

The fire grows higher as the bodies count.

Yet some slip away to regret the night.

Pagan on their tongues yet rusted nails bleed in their hands

And all the while debauchery flows.

The excess begins to show on the yellow grass trod dead.

Weeping mixed with harrowing cries as lovers break to find new ties.

Flowers picked at bud slow the hearts, and slow the breathing.

Some will not be found to have been dead until the evening.

Some will birth new life out of weak will.

Some will choke on wine and will never see the dawn.

Some will befriend the needle and will weave a life soon short.

Some will carry plagues as a secret.

A horror chorus echoes in the morn.

Black smoke stains the white sky grey.

Fading lives exhausted trudge the putrid stomach floor.

All will end breathless, lifeless, bloodless and no more.