Voodoo Call

In the bayou at night
beneath a full moon
across black water’s drifting,
a sad solemn tune.

It beckons me softly
to join it tonight;
become one with its darkness.
Its words do invite.

A whippoorwill sings in
harmonic trills, too;
keening dirges for lost souls
whose lives are now through.

Loas around me, wait
about patiently.
They linger to witness my
soul's dark quandary.

The water is swirling,
solicitous, now.
It awaits a decision.
What will I avow?

My grigri is strong.
Evil it rejects.
The potion is powerful,
and meant to protect.

Will I heed the calling
of voices now dead
or choose to live on
in this world instead?