Celebration of the Dead

In the land of the dead
There is a celebration
Where skeletons dance in streets
In gowns of silk and satin

With no shoes to cover up
The stark white shattered toes
Gentlemen have tread upon
Remorseless and morose

The dresses were once white
And adorned with pretty lace
Now they are stained crimson
Matching a bruised bloody face

In the land of they dead
They dance in celebration
Lifting up what’s left of broken
Hearts and decayed emotions

There’s a peace in their chests
Where hearts haven’t beaten
In so very long a while
Longer than time they haven’t eaten

Dried flowers in hairless skulls
Are the only bright thoughts
These women have in their head
It’s all they have ever got.

In the land of the dead
There’s always celebration
More and more come in for peace
Children, and women, in exultation.


Suspended in time, they no longer care
For the dead have no clocks to weep
Late, late, it is too late;
Now there is no wait for sleep.


Sreedevi